


The Pendant.

by rubyrosettared



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Gen, Sixties/Seventies London, nightclubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-19 06:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 72,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3599931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyrosettared/pseuds/rubyrosettared
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first multi-chapter Mitchell fic that i wrote. Mitchell wore a necklace with several pendants attached and a lot of us would speculate what these pendants were. One looked like a ring and this fic was born. Originally written in the spring of 2011 with Florence and The Machine's 'Lungs' as added inspiration (I will forever think of 'Howl' as being Mitchell and Josie's 'song') This is my interpretation of Mitchell and Josie's relationship back in the late sixties, early seventies. And in this fic, Josie's maiden name is 'Donnelly', i assume her married name was Hunter. </p><p>The recognisable characters from Being Human belong to the writers of that most excellent show, the original characters are all my own. This fic is already up at fanfiction.net in case you're reading it and it sounds familiar :)</p><p>NOW COMPLETE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

** The Pendant. **

**_The Ring:_ **

**_Summer, 1969._ **

He hates waiting for anything and today is no exception.

She promised faithfully that she’d be here but he still has that niggling doubt at the back of his mind that she’ll change her mind, that something better will come along and she’ll ditch him. They’d talked for ages on the phone last night and just the sound of her voice makes him smile, makes his body react. He can’t wait to see her; he’s missed her so much.

He sees the train come into the station and he puts out his cigarette and he straightens and he waits. His brown eyes seek her out, nerves twisting in the pit of his stomach. She has to be here, she promised. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if she’s not on the train. His mouth is dry. He stands on tiptoe, trying to see over the heads of the disembarking passengers, his eyes searching amongst the faces.

Then he sees her and he smiles in relief. He strides towards her, dodging between passengers and other folk meeting loved ones off the train. It all feels so incredibly normal but also incredibly exciting. Her eyes are searching out the faces too and when she sees him she smiles. Her smile makes him hurry, makes him want to be there more quickly.

In an instant he’s there and she’s in his arms. He’s holding her and he can smell the scent of her, her perfume, her hairspray, just of _her._ He lifts her off her feet as he hugs her tightly and he’s kissing her and hugging her again. Everything will be okay; she’s here now, just as she promised.

“How was the trip?” he asks her and she rolls blue eyes.

“Boring,” she replies. He puts her down and looks down and sees the large case by her feet. His eyes widen.

“Bloody hell Josie how much of the flat did you bring? It’s only for a couple of days,” he teases and she smiles.

“I didn’t know what to bring…not having been to Bristol before…” She blushes prettily and he grins as he picks the case up. He tests its weight.

“You’ve brought everything haven’t you?”  She glances coquettishly up at him and shrugs one shoulder.

“I might have,” she answers. He takes her other hand.

“I don’t know why you bothered, you won’t be wearing much of it anyway,” he teases and she giggles. Together they head out of the train station and to where his Volvo is parked.

He dumps the case in the boot beside his own rather smaller overnight bag. He’s never needed much. He slams it shut and then goes to the passenger door before she can get there and he opens it for her and takes a little bow as she grins at him and gets in. He closes it behind her and scoots around to the driver’s side and he gets in.

“Did you manage to get everything organised?” she asks. He looks at her and he slowly smiles.

“What do you think?” Her answering smile is wide.

“Which reminds me…you’ll need this.” He dips his hand into his jacket pocket and he takes out a small square box. He glances up at her face as he flips the lid open to reveal a thin band of gold. He takes it out of its velvety bed and gently takes her left hand. She can barely breathe as he slips it onto the fourth finger. He looks at her again and he smiles once more.

“There you go…Mrs McCartney,” he teases and she tears her eyes away from it to look into his brown eyes. She giggles happily and throws her arms around his neck and she kisses him. There’s a glow to her face as they separate.

“We’d better get going, in case they give our room away.” He pushes the key into the ignition and smiles at her as the Volvo roars into life.

* * *

 

She’s still giggling as he unlocks the door to their room and pushes it open.

“I don’t think he believed us for one single second,” she whispers to him and he rolls his eyes.

“He’s not paid to believe us Josie, he’s paid to do his job.” He follows her into the room.

“But the look he gave you…” The words dry up as she finally takes in her surroundings. “Oh…Mitchell,” she whispers reverently and he takes pleasure in how her eyes go wide, how her mouth drops open.

“Do you like it?” he asks as he quietly closes the door behind him. He watches her turn to look at him. Her eyes are sparkling like sapphires and there’s a new glow to her that he hasn’t seen before.

“It’s beautiful…it must’ve cost you a fortune…” she breathes, turning to look at the room again. The walls are painted a pale ivory with matching curtains at the long windows. The bed is wide and inviting, the bed linen a deeper shade of gold. The moment she consented to visit him in Bristol, he wanted it to be special.

“Don’t worry about that, it’s all taken care of,” he tells her walking towards her. He slips his arms around her waist and she leans back into him, resting her head against the hollow of his shoulder. She’s only here for two days and he wants it to be memorable. She turns in his arms and she stands on tiptoe and kisses him. His hands slip down to her hips and he gently brings her up close to him, not once breaking contact. She reaches for the buttons of his shirt and he lets go of her long enough to loosen his tie and pull it free of the collar. It drops ignored to the floor. His jacket quickly follows. She reaches for his belt buckle, hooking her fingers around it. She draws back from him and the look in her eyes is pure devilry as she pulls him towards the bed.

“Don’t you want to freshen up first?” he asks. She pauses as if contemplating it for a second. Then she unfastens his belt with a speed that makes him widen his eyes. She turns him around.

“You minx!” he exclaims, laughter in his voice. She puts her hand in the centre of his chest and she pushes him. He falls back onto the bed and without prompting, she climbs on top of him and claims his mouth in a sizzling, toe curling kiss.

* * *

 

The remnants of a meal are on a tray on the floor. They had sat in the centre of the bed, clad in hotel dressing gowns and demolished it. Outside its dark and they haven’t once ventured outside of their hotel room.

“I had plans to show you around Bristol this afternoon,” he tells her. She looks at him as she takes a mouthful of her coffee.

“I think what we decided upon was much more fun,” she replies with a wicked grin. He smiles back.

“Yeah it was,” he agrees. Here he doesn’t have to keep his eyes open, to be vigilant for Seth or even Herrick lurking in the shadows. Herrick won’t do anything that he can get Seth to do and Seth is just too bloody annoying at the best of times. He doesn’t want to expose Josie to either of them unless absolutely necessary.

He hasn’t told Herrick that he’s doing this but he’ll know. The fact that he’s not at his usual hang outs should be information enough. He knows that he’s been distracted since their sojourn to London three months ago but he won’t tell him about her, about the fact that he didn’t kill her as he’d instructed him to do. Being with Josie has made him open his eyes to the world around him. It’s made him look at himself and the company that he keeps. His eyes land on the wedding ring that she’s wearing for proprietary’s sake. They lift to her face. He lowers his coffee cup and the sudden movement makes her look at him. He’s frowning and she wonders why.

“What? What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice suddenly tense with worry and he looks at her again.

“Have you thought about moving to Bristol…living here with me?” he asks, the idea just leaping into his mind. Her eyes go wide.

“Mitchell!” she breathes. He twists his upper body to put his cup on the bedside cabinet. He takes her cup from her and puts it beside his.

“Think about it. We could get a flat together somewhere, it’d be great, just the two of us.” He warms to the idea the more he thinks about it.

“My whole family are in London Mitchell,” she gently reminds him.

“You could visit them, there _are_ regular trains to London.” He frowns slightly when he realises she’s not as enthusiastic about the idea as he is.

“It’s too soon isn’t it?” He watches her nod and he swallows against bitter disappointment.

“A little bit. We’re having fun as we are, aren’t we?”

He nods. “I miss you that’s all. This is all so new to me, relationships that last more than a single night.” He looks away.

“I don’t know anyone in Bristol Mitchell,” she tells him in a sad voice.

“You know me, and you’d make new friends…” but she’s not really listening to him anymore.

“All your…vampire friends are here aren’t they?” Her voice is hesitant. Slowly he nods.

“You know…you could always…move to London with me instead?” she gently suggests and it’s on the tip of his tongue to refuse but at the last moment he stops and he thinks.

“I could give notice on my place, we could find something together, there’s plenty of jobs in London, you’d find something easily I’m sure.”

His expression remains pensive.

“I dunno…it’s a big step…”

“And you were expecting me to just up sticks and move here?” she reminds him and it makes him pause. He sighs.

“Point made. Let’s just forget about this conversation yeah?” Josie nods. She watches him climb out of bed. His manner is stiff and she swallows.

“Mitchell…” She scrambles off the bed and goes to him, grabbing his arm. He pauses and then looks at her. She can see that he’s not happy.

“I’m not saying no outright, just not right now, okay? We’re having such a good time; I don’t want to do anything to spoil any of it. What if I did move here and we did find somewhere to live, what if we realised that we didn’t get along? Bristol is such a long way away from London.”

She deliberately catches his eye and she smiles softly.

“What we have feels so special right now and I don’t want anything to get in the way of it.” Her hand slides down his arm to capture his hand.

“Come back to bed,” she invites. With her other hand she reaches for the tie of his dressing gown.

* * *

 

 She stirs sleepily and sees him shrugging on his jacket. She squints at her watch.

“Where are you going at this time of night?” she asks, her voice blurry with sleep.

“To get some cigarettes, go back to sleep, I won’t be long.” He comes around to her side of the bed and he presses a quick kiss on her forehead. She watches him leave before closing her eyes again.

The night manager glances up at him as he walks by. Mitchell ignores him as he leaves the hotel lobby.

The air is warm. He pauses and looks left and right. He steps out and just walks. The need for cigarettes is just an excuse to get some air. What Josie has said about   him moving to London rather than her moving to Bristol has made him think. He could get lost in London, leave all of this behind, and leave Herrick behind. It’s tempting.

He’s so lost in his daydreams that he doesn’t hear the footsteps til the last moment. He feels a hand grab his shoulder and before he knows it, he’s being turned around. He lets his eyes change and he snarls as a hand wraps around his throat. He’s being forced backwards until his back hits a wall, his head connects painfully with the red brick. He struggles but he’s held in place.

“You always are a one for nocturnal wanderings aren’t you Mitchell?” a voice enquires. He manages to turn his head a fraction and he’s not surprised in the slightest to see Herrick standing there. Herrick looks at Seth.

“You can let go of him now,” he tells him. Seth frowns almost in disappointment but eventually he releases him. Mitchell glares at him and rubs at his throat.

“That’ll leave a bruise you fucking moron,” he snarls at him. Seth hisses at him and Mitchell lunges towards him only to be stopped mid movement by Herrick. He pushes him back up against the wall.

“You’re a quick healer, get over it,” he tells him in a firm voice. Mitchell falls silent.

“Now…” He turns his head and sends Seth a hard look. He turns back to Mitchell. “You’re a hard man to find but not impossible.”

“What do you want?” Mitchell demands.

“You’ve been like a ghost these last couple of weeks; a guy could get a complex.”

“I’ve been working, been busy.” Herrick sees how his eyes slide almost guiltily away from his. It’s a tell of Mitchell’s, when he’s not being entirely truthful, his eyes become distinctly suspicious and they’re being very suspicious right now.

“What’s going on Mitchell?” he sighs. He stiffens, it’s very subtle but he notices it.

“Nothing,” he mutters.

Herrick steps in front of him.

“You’re lying to me young man and be warned, I will get to the bottom of it. You can’t keep anything from me, you’ve tried before and failed.” A tiny smile plays at the corner of his mouth. Mitchell stares at him.

“Or I could just go back to the Berkeley and ask the night manager myself?” He makes to turn and Mitchell reaches out and grabs the lapel of Herrick’s jacket.

“No,” he growls and Herrick stares at him for a moment and then looks pointedly at the fist curled around his jacket lapel. Mitchell slowly lets go. The two men stare at each other.

“What’s her name?” Herrick asks in a cool voice. Mitchell swallows but doesn’t answer and Herrick sighs impatiently.

“Does the night manager know? Should I ask him?” his voice rises sharply.

“It doesn’t matter,” he retorts.

“Oh I think that it does, you go off the grid for two weeks and I start to wonder why. I should’ve realised that it had to be about a woman, a woman is the only reason you would be avoiding me, I feel almost… _used._ ”

“You’ll tell me her name eventually.” His voice drops to a lethal purr.

“Have you told her about what you are yet?”

“She already knows and she’s fine with it,” he admits and Herrick’s eyes widen.

“Really? Now that _is_ interesting, don’t you find that interesting Seth?” He looks briefly at the other vampire.

“Fascinating,” Seth drawls. Mitchell glares at him.

“I must meet this girl, is she still up do you think? Would she mind visitors?” He turns and begins to walk and Mitchell has to hurry a little to catch up. He grabs his arm again.

“No…please…don’t.”

Herrick pauses again and turns to look at his right hand man.

“Why not?”

Mitchell sighs.

“She’s asleep, I don’t want her disturbed,” he answers. Herrick stares at him and it takes all of Mitchell’s will power not to look away. Then he sighs loudly, dramatically.

“Okay. Fine. Be like that but I want you back at my side tomorrow or I’m going to be very, very cross with you.” He wags a finger in Mitchell’s face. Mitchell nods just the once. Herrick sighs and straightens his shoulders.

“Don’t do this to me again do you understand? I worry about you.” He glances at Seth again and Mitchell stays where he is and watches them both walk away.

* * *

 

 Josie is asleep when he returns to their room. He sits by her bedside and just watches her. She’s so beautiful, so perfect and far too good for the likes of him but she gives him strength. Every time that she looks at him, smiles at him, it makes him feel better about himself, makes him feel a little bit more worthwhile. He doesn’t want Herrick to get his grubby little paws anywhere near her. He doesn’t want to bear witness to his reaction when he finds out that he didn’t kill her as he’d instructed. Herrick in a rage was a sight to behold and a spectacle to fear. Her life will be in very real danger. He swallows. He’s been tired of this way of life for a while, it holds no magic anymore and maybe a change of scenery is what he needs right now. He sighs quietly and slowly stands up. He tiredly peels off his clothes and drapes them over a chair. He slips into bed beside her and she rolls over. He tenses momentarily as her arm curls around his waist and she snuggles into him. He stares up at the ceiling.

 He needs to escape.

* * *

 

The next morning Josie notices that Mitchell is in a pensive mood. He was awake when she woke up and she has a feeling that he didn’t sleep much through the night, if at all. She woke up in the wee small hours and saw his body outlined in the early grey light but his back was to her and she had no real idea if he was asleep or not.

“I didn’t hear you get back last night,” she ventures. He looks at her.

“Shop was shut so I went for a walk instead, it was a nice night for it,” he replies looking away.

“You should’ve woken me, midnight walks can be romantic.” Those eyes of his flick back to her face. Then he smiles fleetingly.

“You were dead to the world, I didn’t want to wake you,” he answers softly.

“I wouldn’t have minded.” She reaches across and takes his hand. He stiffens very, very slightly and she swallows against the sudden pitching in her stomach.

“Are you okay Mitchell?” she asks him. He looks at her again, right into her eyes.

“Maybe you should go back to London,” he tells her. Her eyes widen in disbelief and then in confusion.

“What…what are you talking about?” He pulls his hand away and gets out of bed.

“This isn’t such a good idea, you and me…I mean look at me? I’m not even human!” Josie’s mouth drops open. He stands in the centre of the room and he pulls his fingers through his hair.

“Mitchell? What brought this on? Is it because I said no to moving to Bristol, is that it?” She climbs out of the tumbled bed, wrapping a sheet around herself toga style. He frowns.

“Yeah, that’s it…partly…Jesus, I don’t know but you shouldn’t be here anymore.” He lifts his head and sees her standing in front of him. Her hair is tousled, she’s not wearing a scrap of make-up and she is staring up at him with such… _trust_ in her eyes that he feels the self-disgust well up inside of him. He’s nowhere near good enough for her; he’s not fit enough to walk in her shadow. He frowns again and takes a halting step backwards. He lowers his head. She notices and feels the rejection keenly.

“Please…don’t be like this…we can work this out,” she whispers. He suddenly lifts his head and a gasp squeaks out of her when she sees his scorched black eyes and the fangs. He grabs her by her shoulders.

“Don’t you get it? Look at me! You deserve so much better than me, than _this_ , this abomination!” he hisses. Her eyes go saucer wide and she grabs his forearms.

“I don’t want anyone else Mitchell, I want you, only you,” she replies her voice starting to rise in alarm. His shiny black gaze rests on her face.

“You shouldn’t. Aren’t you scared to close your eyes at night, knowing that at any moment I could weaken and rip your throat out and feed from you? Don’t you wake up in a cold sweat about it because I do.” She watches his eyes return to normal, to agonised brown.

“I do worry, I’d be a liar to say otherwise but you haven’t, not yet and I do trust you.”

He stiffens.

“Don’t trust me Josie, never _ever_ lower your guard around me,” he growls. He lets go of her and she watches him stalk across the room, grabbing his clothes from a nearby chair. He goes into the bathroom and slams the door behind him. She flinches at the loud slap of noise and she exhales shakily.

Mitchell leans against the door and closes his eyes. He hurts, everything hurts. Slowly he slides down to sit on the floor and he buries his head in his hands.

* * *

 

She lifts her head when she hears the door open. Slowly Mitchell emerges. He sees her sitting on the bed and he flinches.

“What are you still doing here?” he demands. She stands up and pauses for the briefest of moments before walking towards him.

“You will not get rid of me that easily Mitchell,” she tells him in a voice that sounded firmer when she’d run it through her mind earlier. He just stares at her.

“You need to leave,” he tells her and makes to walk past her but she grabs his arm.

“No. You need to listen to me. You saw Herrick last night didn’t you, during your walk and now you’re being awful to me in the hope that I’ll hate you and leave you.” His eyes slide to her face and stay there.

“Well it won’t work.”

His head snaps up at her declaration and he frowns.

“You think you know me? You’ve barely scratched the surface, you’ve known me for three months Josie, and then you’ve only seen what I’ve wanted you to see, that’s part of my charm, of what I am, I lure you in and by the time you realise, it’s far too late and you’re mine.”

“You asked me to move here with you, you arranged all of this…you’ve been nothing but a gentleman Mitchell I don’t believe…”

“Maybe it was all part of the plan, to pull you in to my web, get you away from your loved ones and make you vulnerable,” he hisses back and he watches her eyes go wide again.

“You wouldn’t…” Her voice falters as she scans his face, stares into his eyes.

“Mitchell…please…don’t do this,” she whispers, tears swelling in her eyes.

“Don’t do what?” he whispers back cruelly. She gulps and the tears slide down her face.

“Be like this,” she replies in a trembling voice.

“Don’t you get it yet? This is what I am, this is _how_ I am,” he sneers at her and she just shakes her head.

“Someone or something has scared you. You’re trying to push me away and it won’t work. I remember what you did in London, I also remember you pleading for me to help you, to _save_ you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know what you can be like or how you can be. You’re a lot of things John Mitchell but you’re not _that_ man anymore, you’re that desperate man who came into my flat. You could’ve killed me then but you didn’t and that says a hell of a lot more to me so _try_ _harder_.” He watches her swipe angrily at her face. He pushes her away.

“Christ Josie, why can’t you just _leave_?” he roars. She flinches at his voice.

“Because you don’t want me to go,” she replies. He freezes.

“Whatever he’s threatening to do, we can face him together…we can…Mitchell we can do anything together…” She presses as he slowly shakes his head.

“Please…please Mitchell.” She throws herself into his arms. He catches her without thinking and she’s kissing him. He can taste the salt of her tears, he’s inhaling her sobs. He should tear her away, throw her out but he can’t, oh Christ he can’t, he doesn’t want to. He turns and he carries her to the bed. He lies her down on the mattress and he stares down at her. There are sooty traces on her cheeks. He reaches out and brushes them away with his thumb, then he’s pulling off his clothes, dragging the sheet away and he possesses her, overwhelming her. There’s no gentleness, no tenderness. Everything is stripped away. She arches her spine and accepts him.

* * *

 

He’s spent. His weight threatens to suffocate her but she doesn’t speak. Instead she wraps her arms around him and holds him close, the rasp of his heavy breathing loud in her ear. She stares up at the ceiling. She loves him, so help her God she loves him so much.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers a little bit later and they’re both huddled beneath the sheets again. She opens her eyes and looks into his. She reaches out a hand and pushes a lock of his hair away from his face.

“Why?” she asks him. He frowns.

“Because I’m an idiot, because sometimes I get so terrified that I do such stupid things and say such foolish things,” he whispers. She stares into his eyes.

“You need to get away from here and make a fresh start. Come to London, start again with me, think of the opportunities.” She makes it sound so inviting that he’s seriously tempted. What is there here to hold him back? The only person who has any kind of power over him is Herrick and if he’s absolutely brutally honest, it started to wane five years ago. He’s his maker, his sire and that’s the only loyalty that he owes him. It’s everything to him. He wavers. He feels her hand on his chest, slide down to his stomach, go lower and his eyes close. He hears her move closer to him and he can feel the heat of her body press against his and all over again he’s lost.

* * *

 

Josie watches as he pays the hotel bill. He’s still quiet but once in a while she catches a glimpse of the Mitchell of before, the Mitchell from the train station, from their telephone calls. She relaxes very slightly when she sees him appear but she’s still a little worried. He turns from the desk, her suitcase in his hand. He’s going to drive her to the train station and once she’s back in London, she’s going to make enquiries into finding them a place to live.

His whispered acceptance had gladdened her battered heart and she thinks that it could be the best thing he’s ever done. He needs to get away from this place, away from Herrick’s poisonous influence, away from the temptation.

He’s quiet as he loads her suitcase into the boot of the Volvo. He looks at her and he offers her a faint smile. She goes towards him. She presses him up against the car as she kisses him. She wants to see him smile again. Instead she feels him stiffen; his hands come up to grasp her shoulders. She pulls away and looks up at him in surprise but he’s not looking at her, he’s looking at someone over her shoulder. She turns her head to see and she gasps when she recognises who it is that he’s staring at.

“Oh so this is the pretty little thing that has your head in such a muddle. Why am I not surprised that it’s _you_.” Herrick’s voice softens into a snarl at the last word. Mitchell straightens up and he moves forwards, subtly pushing Josie behind him.

“Now is not the time to get into this Herrick,” Mitchell warns him in an equally soft voice. Herrick walks towards him and looks around the deserted hotel car park.

“When will it be Mitchell? You know, I’ve noticed over the years that you’ve been less…attentive than usual, not so quick to do as you’re told.” He pauses and looks into his eyes.  “If I’m honest then this has been a while in coming.” He moves to the side and the smile he sends Josie is cold, shark like.

“Hello again, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. My name is William Herrick, we didn’t get the opportunity earlier namely because I thought Mitchell here had _killed_ you.” He holds out a hand but Josie doesn’t move, she doesn’t respond at all. The smile doesn’t falter but there’s no warmth in those eyes of his. After a moment he drops his hand

“Fair enough.” He looks back at Mitchell.

“What’s going on my friend?” he asks and to the outsider his tone is neutral, almost avuncular but Mitchell isn’t fooled at all.

“I’m taking her back to the train station,” he answers. Herrick rolls his eyes.

“And how long til you follow her to London?”

“If I want to go to London then there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” Mitchell informs him and Herrick makes a show of widening his eyes.

“Really?”

“Yes really. I don’t need your permission,” Mitchell snarls.

“That’s right you don’t but like it or not, you need me. You won’t last five minutes in that place without me and my connections.”

“I don’t need you anymore Herrick, I don’t need any of your connections,” Mitchell retorts.

“Oh and _she’s_ going to help you? How about when the only thought that occupies your thoughts is the taste of blood, any blood, even hers? What are you going to do when the only thing you can think about is ripping out her throat and feeding on all that precious, delectable blood?” Herrick hisses. Mitchell swallows. “She can’t help you, she’s a child, and compared to us she’s no one. She’s one of _them._ ” He casts Josie a disparaging look.

“I’ve had enough of this life Herrick, I want out,” Mitchell tells him. He expects fireworks, he expects rage but what he’s not expecting is Herrick’s silence.

“Okay, fine but think about this, you think you have feelings for her but what it’s really about is the fact that you’re bored. You’ve been a part of this life for fifty years now and I suppose it does get a bit… _tedious_ after a while, I should’ve expected you to get a bit restless, I mean you adapted to your new life with surprising speed and aptitude, I should’ve thought of ways to keep you better…occupied.”

Mitchell slowly nods.

“Yeah, it’s true that I’m bored but it’s you that I’m bored with Herrick, you and this whole lifestyle, I’ve been a slave to it for far too long, I want to try something new, I’m ready to try and she’ll be by my side, supporting me, helping me.”

“Because you’re too weak to do it alone, face it Mitchell, you can’t do anything by yourself. One day you’ll wake up and you’ll look at her and wonder whether she was worth it. She’ll age, she’ll dry up, she’ll be ancient, decrepit and you will be glorious, you’ll be forever young and vital. Will it all be worth it then?” Mitchell straightens and he glares at him.

“Watch me,” he retorts, feeling the burn of anger flare inside of him.

“Oh I will and I’ll take great pleasure in telling you that I told you so when you come crawling back, whether it’s tomorrow, next year or in ten years time because you will, because you can’t resist the lure of this lifestyle. It’ll hook you back in and drag you back to me kicking and screaming and I’ll be waiting for you with open arms.” Herrick looks back at Josie.

“You won’t last, you’re just the first in a line of potential saviours to him my dear, and you won’t be the last.” His lips curl back in a snarl. The look he fixes on Mitchell’s face is ice cold.

“See you soon my friend,” he tells him and turns and walks away, back into the shadows.

Josie comes out from behind Mitchell and takes Herrick’s place in front of him. Mitchell exhales loudly and covers his face with his hands.

“Are you okay?” she asks him in a quiet voice and he drops his hands and looks at her. He’s pale and looks a little dazed. After a moment he nods.

“At least he knows,” she tells him.

“Yeah, now he knows,” he replies, his tone sombre. She takes a step towards him, into his arms. He holds her close. He knows, he’s not happy and he won’t let it rest, not if he knows Herrick as he thinks he does. He draws Josie back and looks into her eyes.

“We’ll have to go otherwise you’ll miss your train,” he reminds her.

* * *

 

The trip back to the station is conducted in silence. He helps her to board the train and stashes her suitcase somewhere safe. He stands on the platform and looks at her aboard the train.

“Let me know when you’re ready to leave and I’ll be waiting for you,” she tells him. He just nods and she frowns slightly.

“You aren’t having second thoughts are you?” she asks, her tone slightly worried. Second thoughts? More like third and fourth thoughts but he just shakes his head.

“I’ll be okay and I will phone you I promise,” he tells her. He turns his head as a whistle is blown and the train jolts into motion.  Josie’s eyes widen briefly and Mitchell snatches one final quick kiss.

“Stay safe,” she tells him as the train begins to move.

“I will…and I’ll phone you soon, I promise,” he tells her watching the train pull her further and further away from him. She stays at the carriage door and she watches him until he’s just a blur on the platform, lost amidst the other passengers waiting there. There are tears in her eyes when she goes to find her seat.

She sits down and briefly covers her face with her hands. As she lowers them, she notices that she’s still wearing the wedding ring Mitchell had placed there two days earlier. She stares at it and swallows.

* * *

 

All that he possesses he can fit into two small suitcases. As he closes the second one he stares at them both sitting on his bed. Is this what his life has amounted to? He has few links left to his past. His parents are long dead, he has no brothers or sisters and if he has any cousins or other close relations then they are strangers to him. He has simply existed, gone through life like a shark, swimming, feeding when the hunger is too overwhelming to bear, feared by others but essentially alone.

He has a chance at something with Josie and he wants to find out what it is. He doesn’t want to think about the negatives, of what he can’t do, what he can’t be. He wants to experience what is possible, what can be positive. He thinks he can do it, with Josie by his side, he knows he can. He looks around the small room that he’s been renting. He’s given his notice at work, to his landlady and he’s ready. Josie has promised to meet him at her flat and he’s going to stay there with her until they find a new one, she’s already mentioned a few possibilities. Then he needs to start thinking about finding a job. He swallows. There are endless possibilities with Josie by his side. He only hopes that he doesn’t fail her.

He carries his cases down to his car and he loads them into his boot. He stares down at them, they look almost pathetic. He reaches up to slam the boot closed but instead he feels a prickling at the back of his neck and he spins around. He sees Seth advancing towards him with coal black shiny eyes and fangs on show. There’s a wooden stake held in one hand and his intention is clear. Mitchell dodges him with ease and Seth almost falls into the boot with his luggage but Mitchell grabs the back of his jacket and hauls him back. He turns him and pushes him viciously backwards. Seth staggers and falls to the ground and the stake skitters harmlessly away. Mitchell strides towards him and reaches down. He grabs him by the front of his jacket and he hauls him to his feet. Seth’s eyes are wide.

“I should stake you myself you idiot. I’m not in the mood for Herrick’s tantrums, be sure to tell him that. I’ve made up my mind, I’m going and neither he nor you can stop me and the sooner you get it through your thick skulls then the happier I’ll be,” he hisses. He releases his grip on him and Seth staggers back again. He watches him run away. He sighs and straightens his shoulders.

He needs to get out of here and the urge to see Josie swells within him and instead of trepidation, he feels excitement. He gets into his car and he starts the engine. He has a long trip ahead of him.

* * *

 

He drives through the night and if he gets tired then he winds down the window and lets the cool night air wash over him. He’s not hungry; he hasn’t had any kind of urges since she left to go back to London. It has to be a good sign. It spurs him on.

On the outskirts of the city he finds a phone box and calls her. She answers almost immediately.

“Have you been waiting in the hall for me to ring?” he asks. He can almost see the smile blossoming on her face.

“Might have.” He sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Just to let you know that I should be with you in an hour or so.”

“I’ll be waiting…”

“Don’t you have work to go to?”

“I said I’d meet you and anyway I took the day off specially.” It’s his turn to smile. He turns and looks out of the phone box. The sky is pearl grey and pink with the early dawn. He’s exhausted, his eyes feel gritty through lack of sleep but he’s filled with a different kind of energy.

“I’ll be with you soon,” he promises.

* * *

 

He pulls up outside of her flat. He sees her curtain twitch and moments later the door is thrown open and she’s coming out of the building and down the small flight of stone steps. He gets out of the car and staggers as she throws herself at him. Her arms wrap themselves around his neck and he laughs and spins her around until they’re both dizzy.

“Everything okay?” she asks as he lowers her to the ground. He nods; she doesn’t need to know about Herrick’s last desperate attempt at controlling him.

“You look knackered,” she tells him

“Because I am, I drove through the night to be with you,” he confides. He didn’t want to stop unless absolutely necessary and the further away from Herrick he got, the lighter his heart had begun to feel. Already he’s feeling separate from it. He goes to the back of the Volvo and opens the boot and drags out his suitcases. She looks at them and then at him.

“This is it?” He just nods as he slams the boot closed.

“I travel pretty light in case I need to move on, I’m not really a one for souvenirs,” he admits. She reaches across and takes one of the cases. She tests its weight.

“You’re not kidding,” she quips and she takes his free hand.

“Let’s go inside.”

He steps over the threshold and pauses. Josie pauses and looks enquiringly at him. He looks at her.

“I haven’t been back here since…” Since returning to her flat with the roses. Her eyes soften with the memory.

“It won’t be for long,” she reminds him and he just nods. His expression darkens a little and he’s quiet as he follows her into her flat.

In a while he’s settled in. He eats a belated breakfast with her at her kitchen table.

“You forgot this back in Bristol,” she tells him and he watches her pull the wedding ring off her finger and she hands it to him. He looks down at the tiny thin gold circlet for a moment. He looks back at her and drops it back into her palm.

“Keep it. It suits you,” he grins mischievously.

Josie laughs and slips it back onto her finger.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell begins his life in London with Josie and he meets a charismatic stranger.

**Two:**

Mitchell stands in the centre of the empty room and tries to imagine actually living here. He turns his head and looks at Josie. The living room is of medium size with high ceilings. There’s a small kitchen, two bedrooms and an equally small bathroom. The rent is decent and it’s close to his job. There’s a sparkle in Josie’s eyes that tell him that she likes this flat. They’ve spent the last few days viewing a few, some have been nice and others have been dumps to put it politely. He turns to look at Mrs Cartwright who is standing by the door. He feels Josie slip her hand into his and squeeze it gently.

“We’ll take it,” he tells her. He watches their new landlady nod and he laughs as Josie throws her arms around his neck and almost strangles him with a hug.

Mitchell hires a van and they move in shortly afterwards.

* * *

 

The property was once upon a time a larger house that has been split into three separate flats. Josie and Mitchell rent the first floor flat and the ground floor flat is occupied by the Stephensons, an elderly couple with just a couple of little yappy dogs as company. The top floor flat is occupied by two girls in their early twenties. They’re secretaries in the City, single girls who like listening to music, drinking and having a good time, this latter piece of information is supplied by Suzie who does so whilst giving Mitchell an almost deliberate once over. It makes him shift a little uncomfortably and only because a year ago he would’ve taken advantage of her and eaten her for dinner, quite literally. Lisa is the quieter of the two, a redhead to her flat mate’s more glamorous blonde.

Josie and Mitchell settle into their new flat with surprising ease. Mitchell watches Josie pin up movie posters and a psychedelic silk hanging is pinned above their bed. Mitchell is used to renting single rooms and waiting his turn to use the bathroom so living in a flat with a bathroom is somewhat of a luxury to him.

* * *

 

Josie smiles to herself as she lets herself into their flat. How did she get to this point? Here she was, living in a great flat in a cool neighbourhood with a gorgeous boyfriend who was absolutely devoted to her. How did she get to be so lucky? Okay, so the gorgeous boyfriend was a vampire but he was doing so well, he told her that he had his craving under control and she has to believe him. She has to keep remembering how he can be, how sweet, gentle and funny he can be but she must also never forget how that can change on a whim. He told her to never let her guard down and she has taken that to heart.

“Mitchell?” she calls as she closes the door behind her. He’d been off to work at dawn. It had been barely light outside when he’d woken her with a kiss and a cup of tea on the bedside cabinet and he’d been out of the door. He said he’d be back by three. He worked different times, different shifts and she got used to it surprisingly quickly. It was amazing what she could get used to, never having shared a flat with anyone before. She listens but she can’t hear him. She goes into the living room but he’s not there but his boots are half kicked under the coffee table. He isn’t in the kitchen and the bathroom door is open.

She finds him in their bedroom. He’s sitting on the side of the bed, his shirt is half buttoned and his arms are wrapped around his waist. His head is bent.

“Mitchell?” she enquires softly, dropping her bag onto the floor by their bed. He doesn’t respond, he doesn’t lift his head and slowly she approaches him. She reaches out and puts her hand on his shoulder and feels the muscle tense beneath her fingertips.

“Hey.” Slowly she sits down beside him. He makes a sound in his throat and she frowns. He sounds like he’s in pain.

“Mitchell…what’s the matter?” she asks. It’s then that he lifts his head and he looks at her with a shiny black gaze that always shocks her for that instant. She inhales sharply.

“Okay…okay.” She puts her hand on his back and she slowly rubs it up and down. He’s pale and he’s sweating.

“Talk to me,” she tells him in a low voice. For a moment he just stares at her. He’s shaking now and she can hear his heavy breathing.

“I thought I was coping…” he begins and he looks away “but I’m kidding myself, I’m hungry, I’m absolutely…starving.” She knows that he isn’t talking about food in the conventional sense.

“Coming out of work today, all I could hear were hearts beating, blood rushing through veins…and arteries…everywhere I turned…everyone…” Slowly he closes his black eyes and he swallows.

“I barely made it home…I kept my eyes on the ground because if I looked at anyone for any length of time I…I was afraid of what I might do.” She reaches for his hand and he grabs almost desperately onto it.

“I haven’t gone…without for this long…before…” he admits and he opens his eyes again. He doesn’t look at her.

“You’ve been doing wonderfully Mitchell,” she tells him. She keeps on rubbing his back with one hand as he holds onto her other hand. He then lets go of her hand and curls his arm around his waist. He pitches forward and he groans.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asks and he glances at her. The blackness has faded but he has such a look of desperation on his face. She stands up and gently grasps his shoulders.

“Come on, you should lie down,” she tells him in a soft voice. He goes willingly and she straightens his legs and looks at his face.

“It hurts…” he whimpers, screwing his eyes tightly shut.

 She crouches down and looks at him. She reaches out and strokes his face

“You can do this Mitchell, you can fight this, don’t let Herrick be right,” she whispers to him. His eyes pop open at his name and they fix on her face for a moment. She stares back at him. They drift closed and she sees another spasm of pain tighten the expression on his face. She gets to her feet and for a moment she stares helplessly at him. She doesn’t like not being able to take his pain away, or at least not in the way that he wants. She goes into the bathroom and soaks a flannel with cold water and she squeezes it until it’s just damp and she goes back into the bedroom. He hasn’t moved. She kneels down by his bed and slowly she wipes at his forehead. His eyes open again and fix on her face once more. She offers him a small, hesitant smile but she doesn’t stop. She finds his scrutiny a little unnerving, she can imagine what he was like at the height of his charm, when once upon a time he didn’t care who he hurt, when he just took what he wanted. He gives a sigh and his eyes slide shut again.

She leaves him sleeping. As it overwhelms him, he relaxes by inches and she can only sit by and watch him. He’s beautiful, there’s no other word to describe him. She can imagine that if she tells him so, he’ll roll his eyes and make a self-deprecating comment but it’s the truth, he is simply beautiful and he’s hers.

* * *

 

The sun is beginning to set when she hears movement. He appears in the doorway of the living room, his eyes are heavy and his hair is sleep tousled. He wears only an undershirt and trousers, his feet are bare. Josie puts her book to one side and she slowly rises to her feet. He wipes at his face and blinks at her.

“How do you feel?” she asks, going to stand in front of him. He watches her and a slight smile lifts the corner of his mouth.

“Better,” he admits and she smiles softly in response.  She goes into his arms and hugs him briefly.

“I’m glad. Do you want something to eat? And I don’t mean me…” she tacks on and his eyes widen slightly and his smile gets marginally wider. He nods.  

He follows her into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises. Josie pauses and she turns to look at him.

“Whatever for?” he glances briefly at his feet before looking at her again.

“For seeing me like that…so…weak,” he admits. She reaches out and touches his forearm.

“I didn’t expect you to kick the blood just like that Mitchell, I know you’ll have times when it’s all you think about, that you’ll get cravings, it’s okay,” she assures him. He sighs raggedly.

“It was just really bad today, I couldn’t keep it under control,” he confesses quietly. She pauses from looking through the cupboards for something to make him.

“But you did it, it was hard work but you got it under control, you didn’t hurt anyone.”

“But I wanted to and I think it was sheer luck that I got home without bumping into anyone.”

He watches her go to the fridge and open it, she takes out a bottle of beer and she hands it to him.

“Go on through, dinner will be ready soon,” she tells him.

* * *

 

 A little bit of time passes and there’s a tap on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Mitchell calls and gets to his feet.

He opens the door and sees Suzie standing there. She’s wearing a summery short pink dress that makes her look blonde and pretty. Her blue eyes widen when she sees him standing there and he realises belatedly that he hasn’t put his shirt back on. He closes the door slightly as if to try and hide behind it.

“It’s alright, it’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” she quips. He refrains from rolling his eyes.

“What can I do for you Suzie?” he asks instead.

“I’m out of milk and it’s too late for the shop, do you have any spare?” He stares at her, seeing her peachy tanned skin and her plump pink lips. He can hear her blood racing through her veins, the hammer of a pulse beat and the thump of her heart. It’s almost hypnotic and he listens to it intently. He can smell her perfume on top of the heat of her skin. He opens the door very slightly and takes a half step forwards as if under some kind of spell.

“Mitchell?” Suzie enquires, frowning a little in puzzlement.

“Hey, who’s at the door?” another voice, Josie’s voice and he snaps out of it. He blinks, the moment has passed. He turns his head and sees her standing beside him.

“Oh hi Suzie, sorry Mitchell’s been a bit under the weather today, how can I help you?” she enquires in a breezy voice. He watches her bring Suzie inside and he sighs raggedly. He closes the door and he heads off to their bedroom, closing the door. He sits on the bed and pulls his fingers through his hair. He waits until he hears the front door close again. After a moment the bedroom door opens again and Josie pops her head around.

“Are you okay?” she enquires. He nods briskly but she’s not really fooled. He lifts his head and he looks at her.

“I’ll get through this, I promise,” he tells her. She comes over and sits down beside him. She looks at him and then smiles softly and takes his hand “I know you will.”  She gives it a comforting squeeze. “And you won’t be alone.”

* * *

 

He’s mopping the floor and the dullness of it is a balm to his overly active imagination. He doesn’t have to think, he’s away from most people, and all he has to do is move the mop back and forth, back and forth. It’s mind numbingly boring but most importantly it’s _safe._

“If I didn’t see it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it,” a voice announces and it takes Mitchell a second to realise that he’s being spoken to. He lifts his head and briefly glances over his shoulder before regarding the person addressing him.

He doesn’t know him but he recognises him, recognises his kind.

 Vampire.

“And what would that be?” he asks and watches the man come closer to him. He’s taller than he is, with thick curling blond hair and dark blue eyes. He doesn’t look a day over thirty but looking into those eyes, Mitchell guesses him to be much, much older.

“Big Bad John, mopping hospital floors,” the stranger announces, smiling almost smugly. Mitchell stiffens and looks around.

“Relax, there’s nobody here but us,” he reassures him and stops beside him. Mitchell keeps a tight hold of his mop and regards the stranger.

“You have me at a disadvantage.”

 The other man smiles at him and the quickness of it, the chill behind it reminds him in more ways than one of Herrick and he swallows uneasily.

“We have a person in common,” the stranger admits and Mitchell frowns.

“We do?”

The other man nods.

“We do,” he confirms “William Herrick.”

Mitchell’s head goes down as he lifts the mop out of the bucket and begins to swipe the floor again. “I don’t have anything to do with Herrick anymore,” he mutters.

“So I heard.”

Mitchell lifts his head and regards him curiously.

“News travels fast, you fall out with your maker and head for the Smoke, it attracts attention my friend and you’re a legend.”

Mitchell expression deepens into a frown. “What do you want?” he demands eventually, impatiently.

“Just to look at you.” He holds out a hand and Mitchell regards it suspiciously.

“My name is Alexander Marshall.” When Mitchell doesn’t take his hand, he slowly lowers it.

“I’m sure we’ll be bumping into each other quite a bit over time Mitchell, I think it could be a very…advantageous…friendship.” He pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocks back on his heels a bit. He exudes the very essence of friendship and promise but Mitchell does not trust him one little bit.

Once bitten and twice shy and all of that.

“I think you’ve had a wasted journey _friend_ but I don’t associate with your kind anymore,” he informs him. Alexander raises an eyebrow.

“ _My_ kind? We’re both the same Mitchell. Herrick may be about domination, making the human race his personal troop of slaves but I just want a quiet life, I just want to be left alone.”

“Then what are you doing here? I’m no threat to you.”

Alexander smiles very slightly.

“Like I said, I just wanted a look at you, nothing else. Be seeing you around, Big _Bad_ John.” His smile widens and Mitchell watches him turn on his heel and stride away.


	3. Chapter Three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell meets the charismatic stranger again as he adapts to life in the city and sees a different side to life in London. Characters not Being Human canon are my own.

**Three:**

_**1970:** _

Valentine’s Day dawns and an alarm clock blares the room’s occupants into wakefulness. One of them leans over, switches it off and barely restrains himself from launching it across the bedroom. Instead he sighs and rolls onto his back. He stares unseeingly up at the shadowy ceiling. Outside its still pitch dark. He doesn’t fancy the idea of getting out of a cosy warm bed and freezing his arse off but if they’re going to pay the rent _and_ eat then he’s going to have to. He turns his head. He can tell that Josie has gone back to sleep, her breathing has regulated and he can hear the slow steady thump of her heartbeat. She doesn’t have to get out of bed for a couple more hours and he envies her for that. He takes a breath and slips out of bed. The cold slaps at his skin and he shivers and it makes him fleet of foot on the way to the bathroom.

He washes and dresses and then heads into the kitchen. He makes himself a quick breakfast of cornflakes and a cup of tea and hopes the caffeine is enough to wake him up. The flat is quiet, actually the whole building is. He’s bumped into the girls when he’s had a later start and smiled at Suzie’s flirtations but that’s all it has been. She wears a brand of perfume that tugs on him, it makes him turn his head and watch her for a moment or two longer but that’s all he does. He looks but he doesn’t touch, he’s not interested in her like that, he has Josie. He finishes eating and rinses the bowl in the sink and stands there for a moment and drains the mug of tea, feeling the heat of it burning down his throat. He likes his tea nuclear hot and sweet enough to make his teeth ache. He dumps the mug in the sink and runs the tap for a moment. He watches the water fill it up and overspill before turning the tap off. He turns and starts when he sees Josie standing in the doorway.

“Sorry,” she apologises huskily. He smiles softly and walks towards her.

“It’s okay. What are you doing out of bed?” he asks. She smiles up at him.

“I wanted to see you before you went to work. Are we still going out tonight?” She takes a step towards him and she wraps her arms around his waist and she rests her head on his chest, beneath his chin. He slips his arms around her and feels the warmth of her body seep through him.

“Yeah.” They haven’t been out since a couple of drinks in the packed out pub around the corner on New Year’s Eve. She looks up at him.

“What time do you finish?”

“Four. Want me to meet you after work?” he asks and her eyes light up.

“Would you?” He nods. She smiles, stands on tiptoe and kisses him. She’s warm and his eyes slide closed when he feels her hands slip beneath his jumper and t-shirt and smooth over bare skin. He feels her fingernails scratch gently across his ribcage and it makes him twitch. She pulls her head back to look at him and she smiles mischievously. He grins back and dips his head for another kiss. She reaches for his belt buckle.

“You’re going to make me late for work,” he whispers against her mouth.

“Well it is Valentine’s Day,” she whispers back.

He makes it to work with seconds to spare.

* * *

 

It's still freezing cold but bright as he walks to Josie’s place of work. It’s a busy solicitor’s office and not what she wants to do in life but it pays the bills. She wants to teach and teach dance and personally he thinks that she’d be great but going back to school isn’t possible at the moment. He huddles up in his jacket as the building where she works comes into view and he hopes that she’s not held back.

He waits opposite the entrance and he spends the time watching people go in and out. The occasional one attracts more than a glance. He’s watched people ever since he was recruited, at first it was all part of the job, to recognise potential victims, the ones he could charm, the ones to avoid. He likes to think of himself as a kind of expert on the subject. As it is, a lot of pretty girls are coming in and out of the building and more than once he’s been checked out, weighed up and either a smile is sent his way or he’s dismissed as nothing special. It’s almost funny sometimes.

“Hello again.”

He stiffens when he hears Alexander’s voice. He turns to look at him. He’s not wearing jeans and a t-shirt this time, the suit he’s wearing is probably worth a couple years of his salary and he wears it with casual elegance. The long overcoat looks warm too. Mitchell gives a single nod and huddles into his coat again.

“What are you doing in this part of the world?” Alexander enquires and Mitchell just stares at him for a moment.

“Waiting for someone,” he answers. Alexander’s blue eyes light up.

“Oh? I wasn’t aware that you knew anyone here yet,” he comments and Mitchell’s eyes narrow slightly.

“If news travels as fast as you say it does, you’ll know exactly why I moved here,” he informs him quietly.

 Alexander regards him silently.

“The grapevine says a woman.” Mitchell nods again and Alexander smiles softly.

“Love is a wonderful idea. That you could feel so completely for someone that you’re willing to change who you are, _what_ you are for them is quite frankly, amazing.” Mitchell regards him, frowning very slightly.

“Ah. This must be your young lady now,” Alexander announces. Mitchell blinks then turns his head. He sees her emerge from the building with a huddle of other girls. He watches as she says her goodbyes. Two of the girls turn to look at him and they smile and wave. He lifts his hand to wave back and watches them merge into the late afternoon crowds before returning his attention to Josie.

“Hey, have you been waiting long?” She stands on tiptoe and presses a kiss on his stubbled cheek. He looks at her.

“No, not for long.” He sees how she glances at Alexander. He takes a breath.

“Alexander Marshall, Josie Donnelly,” he introduces and Alexander’s eyes twinkle with subdued amusement at the obvious reluctance in Mitchell’s tone.

“Miss Donnelly, a pleasure,” he says, taking a hand and raising it to his lips. Mitchell sees the unsure look she sends him and sees her cheeks flush pink.

“You too Mr Marshall,” she replies shyly. He smiles into her eyes.

“Please. Call me Alexander,” he invites and if at all possible, Josie’s blush deepens. Alexander lowers her hand and lets go. He looks at Mitchell.

“I’m having a party on Saturday night, at the Moonlight, I’d love for you both to come as my special guests,” Alexander tells them both and Mitchell watches him extract something from the inside pocket of his overcoat and hand it to Josie with a smile. Mitchell glances down and sees that it’s an invitation, on glossy white card with extravagant embossed lettering and gold edging. He also notices how her eyes light up.

“The Moonlight is one of the best clubs in the city, how…” she breathes. Alexander continues to smile at her.

“It’s one of mine, so you’ll come?” He looks to Mitchell who looks to Josie and he looks back at Alexander. He barely refrains from rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, what the hell. Thanks,” he replies graciously. Alexander’s smile widens.

“Excellent. I look forward to seeing you both,” he announces. Mitchell glances around and sees two men emerge from a nearby shop doorway. They’re tall, well-built and they go to flank Alexander. Mitchell hadn’t even known they were there til now. In the past he would’ve clocked them much earlier and he mentally kicks himself for the oversight.

“Til Saturday Mitchell, Miss Donnelly.” Alexander gives a nod of his head and Mitchell watches him disappear into the crowd, his two bodyguards in close proximity.

“A friend of yours?” Josie asks him and he looks at her. She links his arm as they begin to walk.

“Not really, I just met him not long after we moved in together.” He wonders whether Alexander has had business in the area or not. He shakes his head slightly and tells himself not to be so suspicious but after living under Herrick’s thumb for so long, it’s hard not to be.

* * *

 

He’s grateful for the weekend. It means that he doesn’t have to be up at the crack of dawn, it means that he will actually see the sun come up and it also means that he gets to spend the entire day with his girl.

He rolls onto his back and turns his head to squints at the alarm clock; after nine, wow, that’s almost lunch time when he’s on early shift. He turns his head back and looks up at the ceiling and he relaxes slightly.

The bedroom door opens and he lifts his head as Josie comes in. She’s dressed and fully made up. He frowns and sits up.

“Where are you going looking like that?” he asks and she pauses and looks at him.

“I’m going shopping,” she tells him as her eyes scan the floor, obviously looking for something. Mitchell moves to sit on the side of the bed.

“And why would you be going shopping?” she pauses and looks at him.

“Because we’ve been invited to a party at one of the best clubs in London and I don’t have anything suitable and I want to look nice.” She walks towards him and stands in front of him.

“You always look nice,” he tells her, reaching for her hands. She rolls her eyes and drops down onto the mattress beside him.

“I want to look _really_ nice Mitchell,” she informs him quietly.

“And you always do, you don’t have to dress up to impress them Josie.”

She sighs and stands up again, her eyes on the floor again. He frowns.

“What are you looking for?” he asks a little impatiently.

“My white boots,” she sighs.

“Under the bed.”  He watches her as she crouches down and reaches under and drags them out. She sits down beside him as she pulls them on and zips them up. He stands up and goes to where his pants are draped over the dressing table chair and pulls some money out of the pocket. He extracts a couple of notes and hands them to her.

“Buy yourself something nice,” he tells her, pushing the cash into her hand. She stares at him with wide eyes.

“Mitchell…” she breathes and he shrugs.

“Go on,” he tells her and she reaches up and hugs and kisses him.

“You spoil me too much as it is.” She’s still wearing the silver bracelet he bought for her as a Valentines gift. It has a heart shaped charm on it and he plans to buy her others for her birthday. He smiles into her eyes.

“Have fun and don’t spend all of the rent.” He pats her bottom as she turns and he smiles at how she chuckles.  A few minutes later he hears the front door close and he sighs and goes back to sit on the side of the bed.

So much for spending the day with his girl.

* * *

 

He sits in the living room and waits for her to appear. She’d come back from shopping just after lunch time and has refused to show him what she’s bought. He lifts his head when he hears the living room door squeak open and his eyes widen when he sees her standing there.

She’s wearing a dress of deep navy blue; there are sequins across the bodice that sparkle beneath the light. He gets to his feet.

“You look….” He looks her up and down and then into her eyes “You look incredible,” he tells her and he sees the light sparkle in her eyes, the smile that illuminates her face.

“Thank you,” she murmurs back.

“Ready to go? Cab will be here in a minute.” She just nods.

* * *

 

Mitchell pays the cabbie and gets out of the taxi. He turns and takes Josie’s hand and helps her out. They pause and he looks up at the illuminated sign announcing the name of the nightclub. He sighs shakily.  There’s a queue and he glances at them warily.

“Mr Mitchell?” he turns his head when he hears the solicitous tone and sees the man standing in front of him. He’s immaculate in a suit and tie and there’s a smile on his face. Mitchell just nods.

“This way please sir.” He touches his elbow and holds out a hand towards the entrance. Mitchell gives Josie a questioning look and surreptitiously she shrugs and together they follow him. They walk past the queue waiting.

“I thought there was a party here tonight?” he asks their escort who glances at him.

“There is, it’s a private party, the club is open for business as usual.” They go inside and Mitchell can hear the distant thump of loud music. Josie slips her hand into his and squeezes it.

They follow their escort up a flight of stairs and through a doorway at the top. As they go through, Mitchell can hear conversation, laughter, the clink of glasses and low subtle music. He scans the faces present and can see a couple dozen of his kind socialising, drinking and seemingly enjoying themselves. He sighs and glances at Josie again. For the second time she squeezes his hand and they go inside.

Mitchell sees Alexander sitting at a table across the room. He looks like he’s holding court. He turns his head and sees them. He smiles, says something to his companions and gets to his feet. His stride is long legged and confident and he draws attention.

“Mitchell! Miss Donnelly, so thrilled you finally made it!” He holds out a hand and Mitchell has no option but to shake it. He watches him gallantly raise Josie’s hand and press a kiss to the back of it.

“Let’s get you both seated and a drink. Champagne?” He turns his head and a waiter appears with a silver tray holding two glasses. He hands one to each of them and he’s leading Josie by the hand to the table that he’s just vacated.

Despite his age and his experience, coming into contact with Alexander Marshall has made Mitchell feel a little bit…uneasy. He’s met his fair share of vampires, hangers on and wannabes, he’s had them fawn over him, fall over him but then again he’d been in the company of Herrick when that happened. This is something different and he finds it vaguely unsettling. The old John Mitchell would have loved all of this attention.

There are two people already at the table and Mitchell watches the male get to his feet as Josie approaches. He vaguely approves of the sign of respect. The woman who sits with him regards him with a quite frankly bored expression on her face. He eyes skip over his face and over Josie’s and is it Mitchell’s imagination that her eyes chill over. He glances briefly at Alexander and all of a sudden he understands.

“Simeon, Victoria, please meet John Mitchell and his companion Josie Donnelly,” he announces. Mitchell’s eyes dart to Simeon’s face. He knows that name and he swallows when he remembers. Herrick had said that he’d ‘kind of’ killed someone’s mother and he vaguely remembers the son having an unusual name.

“Miss Donnelly,” Simeon greets politely with a single shake of her hand. To Mitchell he just nods. Mitchell watches him warily; this has the potential to get ugly very quickly.

“So you’re the legendary Big Bad John,” Victoria drawls, completely ignoring Josie and fixing her attention solely on him. Mitchell stares at her.

“Once upon a time,” he answers neutrally. Josie turns her head and regards him speculatively.  He hasn’t really gone into his past history or his exploits with her. It’s enough that she knows what he is.

They sit opposite the pair and a waiter materialises and begins to fill glasses. Mitchell picks up his glass and takes a sip. It’s French, ice cold and expensive, he hasn’t had champagne like this since his sojourn in Paris in the ‘30’s. He realises that he still likes it.

* * *

 

It’s later in the evening. Josie sits at the booth with Victoria. Mitchell is across the room with Alexander and they’re talking with Simeon and someone else. She wasn’t introduced and she didn’t ask. She watches Mitchell flash a smile at Alexander. His champagne has been swapped for beer. She stares at the glass in front of her. People have swarmed around the table from the time they arrived, all wanting to shake Mitchell by the hand. At first he had been uncomfortable but once the potency of the champagne had begun to kick in, he’d smiled more. She has no idea what they’re talking about over there but she’s starting to feel a bit like a spare wheel.

“Have you and John been together for long?” Victoria’s voice is sudden and very close and it startles her. She turns her head. She’s right beside her and the expression in her green eyes is curious and speculative. Josie moves away from her just a fraction.

“Almost a year,” she replies shyly. Victoria makes her feel uncomfortable; she’s confident, glamorous and comfortable in this environment.

“Ah, that’s nice but you do know what he is don’t you? You do _know_ what he’s done?” Josie regards her for a few seconds before looking back across at him. In that second his eyes meet hers and he offers a tiny smile. Her lips twitch in response.

“That he’s a vampire? Of course I know.” She looks back at her and her eyes widen slightly as comprehension dawns. Victoria smiles at her and momentarily her eyes flash black. She turns back to Mitchell to see him approaching the table with Alexander in close proximity. She gets to her feet as her stops at the table.

“Is everything okay?” he enquires and he sends Victoria a hard look.  At that moment in time, a small band begins to play music. Mitchell stares into Josie’s eyes.

“Come on,” he tells her and draws her onto the dance floor. Presently other couples join them. He draws her into his arms and they sway to the music but he can see her troubled expression.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

“Did you know that Victoria is a vampire?” she hisses. Mitchell flicks a look across to where she’s reclined at the booth, a self-satisfied expression on her beautiful face. He looks back at Josie.

“Yeah and so is Alexander and Simeon and about three quarters of the guests here,” he replies and her eyes go as wide as saucers at his revelation.

“I should’ve realised, the moment she called you that name, I should’ve realised. We should leave.” She stops and Mitchell stares at her.

“Why?”

“ _Why?_ You said you wanted to stay away from this way of life Mitchell but yet here you are, right in the middle of it again,” she hisses angrily.

“It’s just a party Josie; I’m not getting involved in anything. Relax will you?” He captures her hand and he draws her up against him and presses a kiss on her forehead.

* * *

 

“They’re kind of… _sweet_ together don’t you think?” Alexander comments from the booth. Simeon doesn’t respond and Alexander wasn’t expecting him to.

“Why hasn’t he killed her already?” Victoria grumps and Alexander looks at her.

“Because he believes himself in love with her my darling. She’s his Achilles Heel but at the same time she’s his strength.” He watches him twirl her beneath his arm. He sighs quietly. She’s such a pretty little thing but those eyes of hers are sharp. He’ll have to keep a special eye on her.

“But if he’s true to form, he’ll tire of her,” he murmurs as he glances back at Simeon.

“Do you think he’s worth the trouble Simeon?” he enquires. The other man grunts but doesn’t reply but he’s watching the couple too.

“His reputation is fearsome; I think he’d be worth recruiting to our ranks. He has that special….something don’t you think? With the right tutelage, he could become…mythical.”

Simeon Turner watches John Mitchell. He has a personal axe to grind with William Herrick but he has to admit, there’s something about his protégé and he has to agree with Alexander’s summation. With the right encouragement, this vampire could become somebody really exceptional. He turns his head and looks to his boss.

“You need to be careful, he’s still suspicious, wary, if he gets the slightest hint of what you’re up to then he might just disappear and all that groundwork, all that surveillance will be for nothing.” He returns his attention to the couple on the dancefloor. “Tread carefully with this one Alexander,” he warns him.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight and a job offer.

**Four:**

A taxi drops them off outside of their flat. Mitchell tries to hand over the fare but the cabbie assures him that it's already been taken care of. He follows Josie out and into the cold night air.

She’s a little stiff with him which he has to admit he’s been expecting. She barely says a word to him as she unlocks the front door and goes inside. He follows her inside, closing the door quietly behind him. He watches her go into the living room and lower herself onto the sofa and pull off her shoes. He stands in the doorway and watches her. After a moment she lifts her head and looks at him. He sighs and goes towards her.

“Are you going to be pissed off at me all night?” he asks and she blinks.

She then stands up. “I’m tired, I’m going to bed.” As she tries to walk past, he catches hold of her upper arm. She pauses and looks at his hand and then up at his face.

“Let me go Mitchell, I’m not in the mood,” she tells him in a low voice.

“It was a party Josie, that’s all it was."

“I know,” she answers on a sigh, looking back down.

“Then what’s with the pissy attitude?” he demands. Her eyes fly to his face again.

“They were _vampires_ Mitchell, something you neglected to tell me beforehand!” she snaps and she wrenches her arm free of his grip. He feels the anger warm in the pit of his stomach.

“It didn’t matter, it still doesn’t! Did you think I’d forgotten what I am because I haven’t, I never can and we are everywhere, we occupy every walk of life and even in a city this size, I can’t avoid them,” he retaliates. She sends him a dirty look and stalks past him. He follows her.

“Did you think that by living here in cosy domesticity that I’d forget all about the cravings? Alexander understands how I feel, he understands why I left Bristol,” he argues as he trails after her into their bedroom. Her answering silence begins to annoy him.

“He’s a vampire, so fucking what?” he sighs tiredly. He loosens his tie and unfastens the top button of his shirt. He turns, shrugging off his jacket. He wants a beer so badly right now.

“Victoria was staring at you all night, I think she wants you,” Josie calls after him and he pauses. He slowly turns and looks at her, a look of amazement on his face.

“What?” he exclaims.

Josie frowns. “She’s more your type, she’s glamorous, she’s confident and she’s stunningly beautiful.” She watches him stride towards him and he pauses in front of her.

“Is _that_ what this is about? Victoria is a trouble maker, she obviously likes to stir the pot but I’m not interested in her, I never was and I never will be. My type tends to be petite, feisty brunettes with beautiful blue eyes with a heart as big as herself,” he informs her, his tone gentling as she looks up at him. There are tears swimming in her eyes and he sighs and pulls her into his arms.

“I love you, I will always love you, never ever doubt that you hear me?” He draws her back and looks back into her eyes. Slowly she nods. He presses a kiss on her lips and sighs quietly, hugging her again.

* * *

 

Mitchell sighs and pulls agitated fingers through overlong hair. He throws the pen down and sits back in his seat.

“What’s wrong?” Josie asks, coming to stand behind him. Her hands go to his shoulders and she slowly kneads the tense muscles there. For a moment he lets her, getting lost in the feelings. Then he sighs again.

“We’re officially broke,” he tells her. The kneading stops.

“Broke?” she echoes.

“Thanks to the old bat’s rent rise and my reduction in hours, we can barely make the rent and the bills and eat at the same time,” he complains and he frowns.

“We could always look for somewhere cheaper to live,” Josie suggests.

“This is as cheap as it gets Josie, and I like it here."

“I could see if anywhere else is hiring, or try and get an evening job somewhere.” She feels him stiffen.

“You’re not getting an evening job, you work your arse off as it is, and I won’t have you working in a pub or somewhere like that, I’ll find something,” he informs her and he turns his head as she moves into his line of vision.

“Oh can’t I?” she responds coolly. He frowns at her.

“No you can’t. Some of those places are terrifying. We’ll find a way, we’ll get by and something will fall into our laps,” he tells her with an optimism that he doesn’t feel.

* * *

 

He’s on a later shift this week and he’s out of the door as Josie comes in. He sees Suzie and Lisa and smiles his hello’s, his eyes linger on Suzie’s face a little longer than necessary as he catches that scent of her that sticks its tiny little hooks into him and tugs. He looks quickly away instead and hooks his bag across his shoulder. He’s out into the fading light and out on the street.

He prefers to walk to and from work, it gives him the chance to think, to process his thoughts and tonight he welcomes the cold breeze that stings his face.

He hasn’t been walking long when he notices the big black shiny car that glides up alongside him and he pauses. As he turns to face it, the car stops. A window at the back is wound down and Mitchell stiffens when he sees Simeon’s face.

“Need a lift?” he enquires politely. Mitchell stares at him for a moment and then a second, blond head appears.

“Come on, hurry up,” he calls and he smiles. Mitchell sighs and gets in.

He looks at Alexander as the car pulls away.

“Heading off anywhere interesting?” he enquires.

“Just to work.”

“Oh…shift work, nights?” Mitchell just nods.

“I don’t suppose that it pays much.” He keeps his voice the right side of sympathetic. Mitchell shifts a little in his seat.

“It’s okay,” he mutters.

“But you’d rather it paid more, don’t be embarrassed, it’s normal to feel like that.” Mitchell glances at him but doesn’t reply. Alexander leans forward in his seat. He fixes Mitchell with an intense blue eyed stare.

“I know of a way you could solve all your money worries, just like that.” He watches him as the street lights flash across his face.  “You could come and work for me,” he suggests. Mitchell’s eyes widen. Then he begins to shake his head.

“I couldn’t…it’s very kind of you but when I left Bristol I swore…no I _promised_ that I wouldn’t get involved with anything connected to vampires again.” He glances away, suddenly feeling a little shaky.

“You can’t deny what you are Mitchell, like it or not you _are_ a vampire. I understand when you say you’re off blood and I respect and hey, admire you a little bit for it. No, in my line of work, I come across a lot of people in our situation, some are newborns who don’t know what the hell they are never mind who they are. Maybe that’s where you could step in, as an advisor, you could talk to them and reassure them and calm them down, a friendly face if you like and then there’s the entry level stuff, working behind the bar, manual stuff. I pay my staff well.” He continues to watch him. Then he sighs.

“I don’t expect you to answer right away Mitchell. You need to think about it, maybe talk it over with your lovely companion.” He takes a wallet out of his jacket pocket and he watches him open it. He takes out a small white card and he hands it to him just as the car glides to an elegant halt.

“My business card. Give me a call or don’t, it’s your choice.” He then hands something else to him and Mitchell takes it. He looks down and his eyes widen when he sees the fold of cash deposited there. He looks back at him.

“Oh…but…” he stutters. Alexander waves it away.

“Call it an incentive, use it to pay your rent or do some shopping, buy your lady a present…”Mitchell turns his head as the passenger door opens and he sees the hospital ahead. He looks back at Alexander and he swallows.

“Thank you,” he murmurs and he gets out of the interior.

He stands on the pavement and looks down at both the business card and the cash. He lifts his head and watches the big black car slide into busy evening traffic.

“Do you think he’ll go for it?” Simeon asks him. Alexander turns his head and looks at him.

“He’s teetering on the brink. I think a little more time and we’ll have him,” he responds.

* * *

 

It’s still dark when he leaves the hospital. Every muscle in his body aches and he’s absolutely shattered. All he wants is to see Josie for five minutes before hitting the sack and losing himself in blessed uninterrupted sleep. He looks forlornly up at the night sky. It had been close to dark when he’d left the flat last night and it’s still dark now. He may be considered a creature of the night and all of that but at this time of the year he misses feeling the sun on his face. He turns up the collar of his jacket and heads home.

Josie is up and dressed when he lets himself into the flat. She greets him with a smile and kiss and then regards him sympathetically.

“You look exhausted,” she comments. He unhooks his bag from his shoulder and slowly, laboriously he begins to unbutton his jacket. He unpeels it from his shoulders and goes to hang it up.

“Because I am, been a busy night,” he admits. He looks at her and gives her a tired half smile.

“Then go and have something to eat and get to bed but don’t forget to set your alarm otherwise you’ll still be asleep when I get back.” She smiles when he rolls his eyes.

  
He has a meal of cornflakes and tea. Josie is moving around the flat, getting ready for work and he listens with half an ear.

Just before she’s due to leave she comes into the kitchen and she presses a kiss on his cheek.

“Hey, is that all I’m getting?” he teases and he tugs her down onto his lap. She giggles and one kiss turns into several.

“You’re going to make me late for work!” she squeaks as he slides a hand from her knee to beneath her skirt and higher.

“So be late,” he whispers against her mouth. His fingers come into contact with the top of her stockings, slides beneath a strap on her suspender belt.

“I can’t, I’ll get the sack,” she whimpers against his mouth as his fingers investigate further. They pause and then slowly withdraw. He looks into her eyes.

“Go to work,” he tells her in a low, almost regretful voice. She presses another kiss on his lips and then gets up. He watches her leave and then hears the door softly close shortly afterwards.

* * *

 

The flat is very quiet. He goes into the bathroom and washes before heading into the bedroom. Through the curtains, he sees that the sun is fully up though at this time of the year it’s nothing but a wishy washy kind of light. He strips off his clothes and by habit he empties the pockets of his jeans and dumps the contents onto the bedside cabinet. His eyes catch sight of the business card and the wad of cash that Alexander had given him and for a long moment he stares at it. He has offered him a job, which will probably pay more than what he makes at the hospital. He’s promised to respect that he’s off blood but he has to wonder at how long that promise will last.

He climbs into bed and lies face down on the mattress. He slowly inhales and gets a lungful of Josie, of her soap, her perfume, of her unique scent. He clenches his fists and then slowly but surely he uncurls them. Sleep quickly overwhelms him.

He’s awake a few hours later.

He washes and dresses and sees the business card on the bedside table. He picks it up and stares at it. Like the party invitation, it’s made of thick card, shiny with embossed lettering. He runs his thumb over it and flips it over. There’s another number scrawled on the back and he frowns at it. He exhales and drops it back down again. He goes in search of food instead.

* * *

 

“Mitchell…” Josie’s voice is low and he lifts his head from the newspaper spread out on the table in front of him and sees her in the kitchen doorway. He also notices that she’s holding Alexander’s business card. There’s a frown wrinkling the skin between her eyes and he sees the concern in her eyes.

“What’s this?” she asks. He gets to his feet and approaches her and takes the small card from her. He looks at it again.

“I saw him last night on my way to work,” he admits. He looks at her. She looks troubled

“Why would he give you his business card?” she enquires.

“Because he offered me a job.” He sees how her eyes widen in alarm.

“No…nothing like that, he knows I don’t feed and he respects it, no he’s offered me work as a kind of advisor to any new born that come through his door, someone to talk to.” He shrugs.

“Doesn’t he have other…vampires that could do that?” Again Mitchell shrugs.

“There’s also other stuff to do, manual stuff, bar work, I’m a quick learner and I’ve been around and he says he pays well.”

“I know…I found this.” In her other hand is the money that he’d given to him. Mitchell just looks at it for a moment. He sighs.

“I know, he wouldn’t take it back, so why don’t you put it towards the rent, or the bills or just buy yourself something nice with it?” Her eyes widen in shock.

“There’s over twenty quid here Mitchell!” she gasps.

“So? You have it.” He presses a kiss on her forehead. She looks down at it in stunned amazement.

“It’s too much,” she whispers. She lifts her head and watches him go back to his newspaper.

“So are you going to do it? Are you going to take the job?” she asks in a slightly shaky voice and he looks at her again.

“I’m thinking about it, yeah,” he answers. He returns his attention to the newspaper.

“And it’s just what you’ve told me, nothing else?”

“That’s what Alexander said,” he replies in a slow long suffering type of manner. He hears her sigh and he looks up at her once more.

“We need the money Josie, what else am I supposed to do?”


	5. Chapter Five:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell starts work....

**Five:**

He’s nervous as he stands outside of the Moonlight Club. He called Alexander the evening before to arrange this meeting. He straightens his shoulders and takes a deep breath. He stiffens as a door to his right suddenly opens and he recognises the escort from the night of the party.

“Mr Mitchell, it’s nice to see you again, come right this way, Mr Marshall is expecting you.” He holds out an arm and stands to one side as Mitchell slides past him and inside.

He stands in the empty lobby and looks up and around. It’s a lot different in the daylight. It’s quieter for a start.

“This way Mr Mitchell,” he tells him and Mitchell follows him up the stairs. It all feels oddly familiar somehow.

He’s escorted into a large office at the top of the club. Alexander is seated behind an impressive looking desk, his back to a wall to ceiling window that offers a view of the city. He lifts his leonine head as the door opens and he smiles hugely when he sees Mitchell follow the escort in. He gets to his feet and skirts the desk, arm outstretched.

“Mitchell!” he greets almost jovially. Mitchell smiles in response and the two men shake hands. He turns his head slightly and it’s then he realises that Alexander isn’t alone. Simeon he recognises, he’s getting the impression that with one he’ll get the other. He doesn’t recognise the third occupant.

He stands at the back of the office; his hands pushed into the pants pockets of his suit. Mitchell slowly turns more fully around and watches him. The man straightens, his sharp gaze assessing him. He should feel uncomfortable under the assessment but he doesn’t. If anything, it annoys him slightly. He watches him slowly approach him.

“So you’re the infamous Big Bad John,” he announces in a mild voice and Mitchell frowns.

“That was another life,” he answers equally mildly.

“So Alexander tells me. Shame.” He puts out a hand. “My name is Charlie Robinson, you’ll be seeing me around here a bit.” Mitchell frowns slightly as he shakes his hand. Robinson’s eyes are ice blue and sharp. Mitchell gets the impression that not a lot gets past him. He turns back to Alexander.

“Take a seat Mitchell…it _is_ Mitchell right or do you prefer John? I meant to ask at the party but never really got the opportunity to.” Alexander enquires.

Mitchell takes a seat opposite him.

“Mitchell is fine,” he replies, watching Simeon and Robinson take seats at either side of him.

“I’m really glad that you got in touch with us Mitchell, I really hope that you like what we have to offer.” He’s still smiling and Mitchell shifts slightly in his seat.

“I only said I’d talk, I want to hear what’s on offer,” he answers and Alexander nods.

“Of course. Absolutely. Well my original offer still stands, any new recruits that come through our door will be yours to talk to and advise and whatever else you see fit. Have you had any experience of bar work?”

“A little, here and there,” Again Alexander nods.

“As you know, it gets busy here as well as my other clubs so there’ll be opportunities for you to work at those places too when the need arises. There’s also chances for other work opportunities within the company, the chance for…promotion and self- improvement. We’re willing to pay…this….for your experience.” He writes something down on a piece of paper and he leans across his desk to hand it to him. Mitchell takes it and looks at it. His eyes widen marginally. If he accepts this, then essentially his financial troubles are over. He lifts his head and stares steadily at Alexander.

“I won’t be involved in anything…underhand…there’ll be no…blood around me,” he tells him. He doesn’t miss the glance that Alexander flicks towards Simeon before he nods.

“Alright. You said earlier that you’re not feeding and that’s fine, you never know it might rub off on our other colleagues.” He flashes him a quick smile. Mitchell just regards him levelly.

He looks down at the piece of paper in his hand. Why does he feel as if he’s about to sign his soul away? He looks at Alexander and smiles.

“Then you have yourself a deal Mr Marshall,” he says. Alexander’s eyes light up and he laughs almost joyfully. He gets to his feet and comes around his desk. Mitchell stands up and the two men shake hands.

“Please, call me Alexander and welcome aboard Mitchell, I’m sure you’ll be very happy here!” Mitchell smiles and just nods. He turns his head as Simeon and Robinson approach him and take their turn to shake his hand.

“Come on, let’s introduce you to the family,” Alexander tells him as he claps a hand between his shoulder blades. He turns and leads him out of the office, the other two men following behind.

* * *

 

There are two secretaries occupying the outer office.

“Mitchell, this is Linda, she’s my personal assistant, and I have yet to meet the man who can get past her uninvited. Linda, our newest recruit, John Mitchell.” He watches the secretary stand up from behind her desk. She smiles and holds out a hand for him to shake, which he does. Mitchell gauges her to be in her mid to late forties, her hair is short and dyed blonde and there is a toughness about her that makes him think that what Alexander has claimed about her is the truth.

There’s a girl at the filing cabinet. She has long dark red hair and she’s reed thin.

“And this is Linda’s assistant. Rosemary, come and meet John,” Alexander calls. Mitchell watches the girl stiffen nervously and jerk around. She’s blessed with a redhead’s pale milky skin and big green eyes which are currently hidden behind milk bottle thick glasses. Her eyes widen when she looks at him. He can hear the nervous flutter of her heart from here and he doesn’t doubt that his companions can too. He smiles at her and sees how she blushes pinkly.

“Rosemary, call me Mitchell,” he tells her in a low voice and he shakes her hand.

“Nice to meet you…Mitchell,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper and he can see that she’s absolutely crippled with shyness.

“See you around, yeah?” Her cheeks flame anew and she nods and then turns back to the filing cabinet.

“Rosemary is new here, just moved to London from the sticks, first time away from home and all of that,” Alexander tells him in a loud stage whisper.  Mitchell glances at him and they leave the office all together.

* * *

 

They go downstairs into the main ballroom. It’s a hive of activity. Mitchell sees cleaners hard at work and there’s someone behind the long curved bar. He’s stocking shelves and checking inventory. Mitchell sighs very quietly and follows Alexander to the bar. The barman turns and when he sees them approaching, his eyes widen marginally and he straightens his shoulders in a manner that Mitchell recognises of old. As they stop, Alexander smiles at him and then turns to look at Mitchell, Simeon and Charlie.

“How about a celebratory drink gentlemen?” he suggests and he looks at the bar tender.

“You know what I like Max, four times if you please.” Mitchell watches him place four short tumblers onto the polished wooden bar and pour four shots of Jameson Irish whisky. Nothing is added and Alexander seems to get a kick out of giving each of them a glass. Mitchell holds his glass and he looks down into it for a moment.

“To the future, may it be nothing but successful,” he toasts and holds out his glass. They toast and then drink and Mitchell feels the whisky burn smooth fire down his throat, it’s been a while since he’s had a shot of this stuff and he feels it comfort and warmth in the pit of his stomach. He turns his attention to Max and sees him glance away. He frowns very slightly.

“Max, meet John Mitchell, you’ll be working together for a bit, you need to show him the ropes of how we do things around here,” Alexander instructs and Max lifts his eyes to Mitchell’s. His skin is pale, his expression is watchful and it’s then that Mitchell realises that this kid is a vampire and he’s looking at Mitchell with something close to fear in his eyes.

“How old are you?” he asks him in a low voice. Max almost recoils from the fact that Mitchell has spoken to him directly.

“Umm…twenty two sir,” he replies nervously and Mitchell rolls his eyes and turns to face him more fully.

“No…how _old_ are you?” he asks meaningfully and Max stares at him for a moment. Then the light suddenly dawns on him.

“Oh…two years ago sir,” he clarifies. Mitchell sighs. He’s a baby.

“Don’t call me sir, my name is Mitchell, you’re Max, right?” he asks him and the kid nods quickly, nervously.

“Sorry, force of habit s…Mitchell and…yeah.” He presses his lips together and looks down at the wooden surface of the bar. Mitchell rests his elbows on it and waits for Max to look up.

“How about you start showing me the ropes, yeah?” he suggests. He then turns his head to look at Alexander who just shrugs.

“Go ahead, the sooner the better,” he responds. Mitchell flashes him a smile and heads around to behind the bar, shrugging off his jacket as he does so. He unfastens his tie and rolls up his shirt sleeves. Max stares briefly at him with wide brown eyes. He blinks and then takes a breath and begins to show him how the bar is run.

* * *

 

Mitchell listens and he learns. Essentially it’s the same but every bar, every pub has its differences and habits and he has to be aware of all of them. He’s aware that Max is slightly in awe of him and it makes him feel uncomfortable but he shrugs it off and gets on with the job at hand.

Alexander, Simeon and Charlie are across the room and out of hearing. Mitchell leans forward and he rests his elbows on the bar. He turns his head and regards Max.

“You were nineteen when you were changed?” Max nods.

“Coming back from college late one night when I was grabbed, don’t know who it was but I remember coming to and feeling so…confused and scared. It was Mr Robinson who brought me here and Mr Marshall helped me to find my feet and all of that.”

“That was nice of him,” Mitchell murmurs looking across to where all three of them sat at a table chatting amongst themselves.

“He pretty much saved my life,” he replies. Mitchell looks at him.

“The first few years are the roughest til you find your place in the world, it’s important to get connected to the right people, the ones that can help _you._ ” Max regards him and then nods.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“Is it true that you’re off blood?” Mitchell looks away briefly and just nods.

“How did you do it?”

“It’s a work in progress, still new to me, it’s only been a few months,” he mutters in response, staring at his hands.

“But why?” the question bursts out of him “And isn’t it difficult? Didn’t you work in a hospital?” Mitchell turns his head slowly and his eyes narrow speculatively.

“Alexander wasn’t kidding when he said word got around here and yeah I did and I manage, it’s called willpower.” He straightens up and begins to roll down the cuffs of his shirt. He picks up his jacket from a nearby stool and he shrugs it on. He looks at Max.

“See you later okay?” Max just nods. He watches Mitchell stride across the room towards Simeon, Alexander and Charlie.

  
“Can you start tonight Mitchell?” Alexander enquires as he watches him approach their table.

“Sure. What time do you want me here?”

“How about six? Is that okay?” Mitchell nods.

“It’s fine. See you later.” The three of them watch him leave.

* * *

 

Josie hears the key in the lock and she gets to her feet. She waits with an air of barely reigned in impatience as he comes through the door. He’s carrying a bunch of white lilies. Her eyes widen.

“Did you get the job?” she asks in a slightly breathless tone. He nods.

“Alexander wants me to start tonight.” He goes over to her and gently kisses her before handing over the flowers. Their scent briefly drifts over her. She looks down at them.

“You’re okay with this aren’t you?” he asks her and she looks at him again.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about yesterday, I trust you, I _have_ to trust you around other vampires and this is a good opportunity for you,” she tells him huskily.

“At the first sign of any trouble then I swear I’ll get out,” he promises her and she frowns slightly.

“You sound like you’re expecting trouble Mitchell.”

“It has a habit of following me around sometimes but not this time, this time it’ll be fine.” He snatches a kiss and then he smiles into her eyes.

“Put your flowers into water,” he tells her. She looks down at them again and she smiles softly.

“They’re beautiful, thank you Mitchell,” she murmurs.

“Only the best from now on for my girl,” he tells her and watches her go into the kitchen. Only when she’s out of sight does he relax slightly and he sighs raggedly, pulling his fingers through his hair. Trouble has an unerring talent for finding him. He sincerely hopes that this time it’ll be different.

* * *

 

She watches as he emerges from the bedroom. He’s clad in his black suit, white shirt and narrow black tie. His hair shines beneath the light, the curls brutally tamed. As she approaches him, she notices that he’s clean shaven and she catches the subtle spicy scent of his aftershave. He’s dressed to impress and she swallows down the faintest twinge of jealousy. He has his new boss to impress that’s all. There’ll be women there of course but she trusts him, he’ll be faithful to her.

“Don’t wait up for me okay? It’ll be late before I get back.” Josie nods. He scans her face.

“I’ll be okay,” he whispers. He slips an index finger beneath her chin and gently he tilts her head up until she’s looking into his eyes. He lowers his head and presses a soft, soft kiss on her lips. Her eyes drift closed at the gentle contact before fluttering open again as he moves away.

* * *

 

He turns heads as he enters the club. There are people here that he doesn’t know and he looks around for Max or Simeon or Alexander.

“Everything okay Mitchell?” He turns when he hears Alexander’s voice and he sees him come down the staircase.

“Just getting my bearings,” he answers. He watches him come down to his level.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to those you missed from earlier,” he tells him and Mitchell nods and follows him into the main ballroom.

He watches as he gathers a group of young beautiful women together. They are all wearing tight fitting black dresses and with their heavy make-up and their teased and back combed hair they look like identical dolly birds.

“Mitchell, our cocktail waitresses, ladies this is John Mitchell our newest recruit, he answers to Mitchell.” He goes through their names but they don’t stick in his head, they all look too similar to him and he watches them walk away and he can’t help but think that they are very easy on the eye and therefore perfect for their job. He turns his head slightly when he feels Alexander’s hand fall heavily on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, it took me a while to remember who was who but you’ll get there. They’re nice to look at and that’s what’s important.” He smiles at him, pats his shoulder and takes a step back.

“Any problems come and find me okay?” Mitchell just nods and watches him leave.

* * *

 

The place quickly fills up and within a short period of time it is heaving. Mitchell scans the faces; it’s heaving with humanity and otherwise. He’s enthralled by it. He watches how Max deals so effortlessly with the customers at the bar and how the waitresses move swiftly between the tables, serving drinks and removing empty glasses and bottles. He helps him out by serving up bottles of champagne, filling the silver ice buckets and making sure each order is correct. The waitresses seem to like him if the smiles he’s been receiving are anything to go by.

“Where are you going?” Max asks him as Mitchell skirts around the bar. He glances at the young vampire as he grabs a tray.

“To help the girls,” he informs him. Max’s eyes widen.

“They can manage,” he almost splutters and Mitchell smiles faintly.

“I know that but I’m new, I need to find my way around. Won’t be long.” Max’s mouth drops open as he watches Mitchell disappear into the crowd.

* * *

 

He clears tables of empty and discarded glasses and his eyes take in his surroundings. It’s a very popular place to be even in the middle of the week. There’s a band playing but he barely pays attention to them.

“Mitchell.” He turns and sees one of the waitresses.  “It’s Polly,” she supplies and he smiles at her. Of course it was. Her expression then changes slightly.

“I was wondering if you could help me out,” she begins.

“What’s the matter?”

“Got a punter with a bad case of wandering hands,” she supplies rolling her eyes at the same time.

“Where?” He turns his head as Polly points over his shoulder.

“Table twenty seven. He’s a pain in the arse but he’s a pain in the arse with money. Mr Marshall likes us to be nice to the punters but this one is pushing my nice limit.” Mitchell follows her finger and he sees him. He glances back at Polly.

“Sure,” he replies and she smiles gratefully.

“Thanks,” she whispers. He takes the tray out of her hands and her eyes widen.

“Don’t worry, if the randy bastard leaves a tip then it’s all yours.” He flashes a quick smile at her and despite herself, she grins.

* * *

 

Mitchell doesn’t say a word as he places the tray on the table. Its occupant is corpulent, a City type and a couple of day’s worth of a meal to his kind of folk if he wanted to think like that. He casts Mitchell a suspicious look as Polly picks up the empty glass and bottle but he fixes his beady gaze on her face and he smiles.

“How about you join me for a drink?” he invites. Polly smiles politely.

“I can’t unfortunately, I’m working,” she tells him, glancing at Mitchell as she did. City type sees how she looks at him and looks at him also.

“Ah… is this your boyfriend my darling?” He reaches up and grasps Polly’s arm.

“Well I’m always open to new experiences,” he insinuates. Mitchell rolls his eyes and can barely hide a discreet shudder.

“Excuse me sir, but the lady is working,” he interrupts. City type barely glances at him but a frown appears all the same.

“I’m not finished,” he announces instead. Mitchell sighs.

“Oh but I think you are,” he replies and leans across to grasp his wrist. This time he has City Guy’s undivided attention and he glares at him.

“Do you know who I am?” he demands and Mitchell regards him with a deliberately blank expression on his face.

“No sir. Am I supposed to?” he enquires with pseudo-politeness. City guy narrows his eyes but Mitchell notices that he’s gone a bit red in the face.

“I can have your job you know,” he threatens.

“I’m sure you could sir but right now you need to let go of the lady’s arm,” he tells him, subtly applying pressure of his own. He watches his eyes go wide and he lets go of Polly’s arm. Mitchell looks at Polly and she picks up the tray and hurries away.

Mitchell leans over until his eyes were level with his. His eyes sharpen, his expression subtly changes.

“You’ve paid for your drinks tonight but you didn’t pay for the girl too and she is most definitely not on the menu. It would do you good to remember that.” He watches him as he seems to swell before his eyes with something akin to outrage. He staggers to his feet and in the process he jolts the table and sends the bottle and replacement glass crashing to the floor. It draws attention to them.

“How dare you speak to me like that!” he blusters. 

Mitchell stares levelly at him.

“Having money does not give you the right to treat the staff here like shite, she was doing her job and she doesn’t appreciate being treated like a cheap tart,” he replies. Outwardly he’s calm but he can feel the irritation begin to churn.

“Is there a problem here gentlemen?” another voice interrupts and Mitchell turns his head and sees Simeon. He seems to have materialised out of nowhere.

“Just a misunderstanding, the _gentleman_ here seems to think that the price of his drinks included the waitress too and didn’t appreciate being reminded otherwise,” Mitchell replies.

“He’s rude and insubordinate,” City guy blusters and Simeon puts on a conciliatory hand on his shoulder.

“He’s new here Mr Curry and he’s correct I’m afraid. Can we call you a cab?” he makes his tone as soothing and as sympathetic as possible at the same time beckoning over two huge bouncers who flank Mr Curry at either side.

Mitchell stands beside Simeon and watches him being escorted away. He looks at Simeon.

“I didn’t mean to….” Simeon holds up a hand.

“Don’t worry about it, Thomas Curry outstayed his welcome here months ago so you did us all a favour.” Mitchell blinks in surprise.

“It’s not unusual for the waitresses to get felt up like that but you need to be more…subtle about it in future, okay?”

Mitchell sighs loudly and just nods. “Okay,” he agrees.

Simeon looks at him for a moment.

“How are you finding it?” he asks. Mitchell shrugs.

“It’s fine, busy, is it always like this?” Simeon looks around and a half smile crosses his face.

“Pretty much,” he confirms. Mitchell watches him walk away. He looks down and sees the bottle leaking expensive champagne all over the carpet and he sighs in irritation and leans down and picks it up. He gathers up the glass whilst he’d down there. As he straightens, someone catches his eye. She’s standing at the back of the ballroom and she’s watching him, a slight smile curving her full red lips.

Victoria.

Mitchell holds her gaze for a moment or two longer before turning away.

* * *

 

Alexander watches him pick up the bottle and then he sees him look to the back of the ball room. He glances at Simeon as he rejoins the table.

“You should’ve left him alone, it was getting interesting,” he comments and Simeon flashes him a brief smile.

“He’s too intent on making a good impression right now but give him time.” Alexander looks over his shoulder and sees Victoria walk towards them from the back of the ball room. He sees Mitchell heading back towards the bar.

Interesting.

 


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie has a proposition for Mitchell....

**Six:**

**_A few weeks later…_ **

He can hear laughter and it makes him pause.

“No. Please, give them back!” a voice begs. It’s coming from the top of the stairs and he looks up. Rosemary comes into view and there are two men with her and it’s them who are laughing. They seem to be playing some kind of game with her, one she doesn’t seem to want to be a part of.  Curious, he climbs the stairs.

“Rosemary?” he asks. She turns her head towards his voice and he sees straight away that she doesn’t have her glasses on. She squints myopically at him.

“Mitchell?” she enquires. He climbs the rest of them until he reaches the top.

“Yeah. What’s the matter?” He turns his head and he looks at the two men who stand nearby. One of them is wearing a familiar pair of milk bottle lensed glasses. He stares at Mitchell almost insolently but doesn’t take them off.

“They really don’t suit you mate,” Mitchell sighs.

“This has got nothing to do with you,” the other one snaps at him. Mitchell turns his head and looks at him. He looks to be about his own age, maybe a year or two older, both are vampires.

“How old are you? I mean, _really_?” he retaliates as he looks back to the one wearing her glasses. “Are you going to give them back to her voluntarily or am I going to have to make you?” The other one snickers but Mitchell doesn’t as much as glance at him.

“What’s your name?” he demands.

“What’s it to you?” he retorts.

“Because I want to know. Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to check the back of your shirt?”

“It’s Freddie,” he hisses petulantly.

“Well… _Freddie_ , give the girl back her glasses, there’s a good boy,” he instructs him with barely reigned in patience. He hears his friend snigger again. Mitchell looks at him once more.

“Is something amusing you?” he enquires sharply. He falls silent. Mitchell again looks at Freddie who has taken the glasses off; he holds them loosely in one hand.

“Do you think that you’re brave enough?” Freddie jeers, equilibrium regained, and Mitchell rolls his eyes.

“Do you want to find out, because we can find out if you _really_ want to.” He lowers his voice and glares at him. Freddie lifts his chin and Mitchell tenses his body. He straightens his shoulders, clenches his fists and waits for the strike that is sure to follow.

He waits.

“Do you know what I am?” Freddie snarls quietly instead. Mitchell stays still and he lets his eyes scorch black for a brief moment.

“Yeah, I think I do,” he replies calmly. Freddie’s eyes widen as comprehension and recognition dawn.

“Oh my God, you’re him,” he breathes.

“And who would that be exactly?” Mitchell enquires softly. Freddie inhales sharply.

“J…John Mitchell I…I’ve heard about you…you’re known as...” His words are whispered, nervous.

“I know what I’m known as,” Mitchell interrupts impatiently. He holds out a hand.

 After a long moment, something flickers in Freddie’s eyes and he gives him the glasses. Mitchell regards him for a moment longer. On the outside, Freddie looks tough enough but he doesn’t do confrontation very well, a hard look and he crumples like a house of cards which is not a good thing to do when you’re one of the undead. The phrase all mouth and no trousers comes to mind.

“Thank you,” he responds cordially and he goes back to Rosemary.

“There you go sweetheart.” He slips them onto her nose and watches how she blinks. As he comes into focus, she smiles.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

He smiles into her watery green eyes. “You okay?” She just nods.

“They were just having a bit of fun,” she tells him in a low voice.

“They made you cry, that’s not fun,” he replies and touches her shoulder. She bows her head, her dark red hair falling forward to hide her face.

“Go on, get back to work,” he whispers to her and she nods and all but scuttles off in the direction of the office. Once she’s inside and the door is closed, Mitchell slowly turns around.

They haven’t moved, they’re still standing there and they’re watching him warily. Mitchell walks towards them.

“You think that’s funny?” he demands angrily. Freddie’s companion rolls his eyes.

“Why can’t you just lighten up?” he demands and Mitchell feels his spine stiffen. He moves lightning fast and grabs him by the front of his jacket. He propels him backwards until his back hits the staircase bannister.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but obviously you don’t know who you’re talking to.” He forces him back; his right hand comes up and closes around his throat. He pushes him until he is bent precariously over the bannister. If he wants to let go, he’ll fall onto the steps below. Mitchell leans forwards and he lets his eyes change again.

“My name is John Mitchell, you do _not_ want to piss me off,” he hisses, his eyes are brown again and blazing with fury. Wide, suddenly scared eyes stare back at him. Mitchell yanks him upright and he glares at Freddie who is now staring at him in wonder.

Mitchell looks back at Freddie’s suddenly silent friend. He lets go of him, pushes him away and takes a step back. He straightens his jacket.

“If I ever catch either of you bastards picking on Rosemary or anyone else, you’ll answer to me, do you hear?” He raises his voice and he watches how Freddie almost snaps to attention. He just nods. Mitchell turns his head as Alexander’s office door opens.

“What’s all the fuss?” Alexander demands testily. Mitchell looks back at Freddie.

“Nothing. It’s all sorted now,” he retorts and watches them both walk away. He turns his head as Alexander walks towards him.

“Actually, I was wondering whether you had a moment.”

“Sure. Anything wrong?”

“Let’s go into my office.”

“What were Freddie and Jake doing this time?” Alexander asks as they walk to his office.

“Is that who that cheeky gobshite was? I nearly put him over the bannister”

“You should’ve done, would’ve taught the bastard a lesson, he’s far too big for his boots that one.”

“So why have him around?” Alexander grins at him as he opens the door.

“Because he’s handy to have around and he can be moulded into something interesting,” he replies and Mitchell follows him inside.

He glances across and sees Rosemary at her desk. She lifts her head and offers him a timid smile. He smiles back and follows Alexander into the inner sanctum.

“You seem to be a hit with Rosemary,” Alexander comments as he closes the door behind him.

Mitchell shrugs.“She’s a nice girl,” he admits.

“Careful, she could turn sweet on you; you come to her rescue like that, you’re in danger of turning into her hero.”  Alexander replies mischievously. Mitchell rolls his eyes and sits down in front of his desk.

“How did you know?” he asks and Alexander grins.

“I notice when one of my secretaries is upset Mitchell and Linda mentioned she could hear a to-do outside.”

“Coffee?” he enquires but Mitchell shakes his head, he’s curious as to why Alexander needs to talk to him. He opens his mouth to speak but there’s a sharp rap on the door and he turns his head as it opens. Linda stands there.

“Mr Robinson is here,” she announces and stands to one side as Charlie makes his entrance.

* * *

 

“Sorry I’m late.”

Mitchell watches him take the seat beside his. He doesn’t sound sorry, in fact he sounds just a little bit pissed off.

“Everything okay Charlie?” Alexander enquires solicitously. He goes to his drinks cabinet and pours him a double scotch and hands it to him. Mitchell witnesses him gulp it down in one shot like its water and hold out the heavy crystal tumbler for a refill. He tosses that one down too.

“Bobby Burton,” he mutters and glowers. Mitchell looks back at Alexander and wonders who the hell Bobby Burton is and what it has to do with him.

“What’s he done now?”

“He’s behind with his payment, two weeks behind,” he growls. Mitchell watches Alexander’s face darken with anger.

“Is he now? Well, I think he needs to be reminded who’s boss, don’t you?” he suggests and it’s now that he looks at Mitchell.

“What?” Mitchell asks and watches as he comes around to sit on the outward edge of his desk and observe him.

“We weren’t properly introduced earlier were we Mitchell?” Charlie interrupts and Mitchell looks at him. His blue eyes are hidden by huge ugly horn rimmed glasses that do him no favours.

“As you know, my name is Charles Robinson but you can call me Charlie. I’m what you could call a...liaison officer.” He glances briefly at Alexander.

“Liaison officer?” Mitchell repeats.  Charlie turns his sharp gaze his way, He sighs.

“Yeah, between _our_ world…and everywhere else,” he supplies. He watches as he finally understands.

“How?” This time Charlie smiles and to the uninitiated it might even be thought of as friendly but to Mitchell it’s anything but.  It makes him all the more wary. He watches him take the ugly glasses off.

“I take care of business, I clear up messes that stupid vampires leave behind, all for a fee of course, covering up their shit is expensive but worthwhile for their existence and that’s where you come in.”

“Doing what?” Charlie looks back at Alexander and then he sighs loudly, almost melodramatically.

“I used to have chap who collected what was owed me… _us_ …and he was very good at his job but then he met with an unfortunate…accident and now I’m a man down.” He sits forwards. “I want you to take over” he informs him.

Mitchell’s eyes widen.

“Me? Why me?” he demands. He sits back in his seat and begins to worry a thumbnail.

“Because you have a reputation my friend, one look at Big Bad John on their doorstep demanding payment and they’ll cough up, no arguments.”

“Why can’t you do it?” Mitchell asks him.

“It’s all because of my occupation, my day job. I’m a copper Mitchell; I have to stay below the radar. No one gives me a first look, never mind a second one and I don’t want or need to draw attention to myself, that’s why we need you.” He sees Mitchell’s deep frown.

“But I said…”

“I know what you said and don’t worry, there’s nothing… _bad_ involved. All you have to do is get in the faces of a few of the idiot vampires who owe us, and believe me there are a few. Put the frighteners up them, whatever, I’ll leave that up to you but I guarantee one look at you on their doorstep and you’ll get the money we’re owed quick smart.”

“What’s in it for me?” Mitchell asks, his hand dropping onto his lap. Charlie is drawn to the rhythmic tattoo his left foot is now tapping out on the carpet instead.

“Ten per cent,” he informs him.

“Ten per cent of _what?_ ” he demands and Charlie’s eyes go to his face. He sees the indecision being slowly replaced by interest; he can’t help himself, he’s curious.

“Ten per cent of the monthly cut, we clear about two grand a month, more when we’re busy, sometimes less when we’re not.” He can see his brain ticking over, doing the sums.

“What would I have to do exactly?” he asks, his voice tight, quick

 “You make them realise that cleaning up their messes is expensive but worthwhile. You make them _understand_ that it’s in their best interest to pay up and pay up instantly and on time in future, I’m sure you know what I mean.”

Alexander and Charlie watch him fumble in the pocket of his jacket and take out a crumpled packet of cigarettes. He pulls one out and instantly Charlie is there with a light. Alexander hasn’t failed to notice the slight trembling of Mitchell’s hand as he accepts it. He inhales sharply and then lifts his chin to exhale a cloud of white cigarette smoke.

Two hundred quid a month means he can pack in the job at the hospital and Josie could give up the job at the solicitor’s office stay at home or even, shit, she could even go to college to study dance if she still wanted to. He could take care of her like he wants to, like she should be.

“Ten per cent is more than we paid the last bloke but vampires with your kind of reputation do not grow on trees my friend and I have to strike while the iron is hot. It’ll be a stretch but I think you’ll be worth the extra dosh, especially with Head Office watching.” He watches Mitchell frown.

“Head Office?” he echoes.

“The Big Bosses, the higher ups. We’re just the underlings here, apart from Alexander here, him not so much, and judging by the expression on your face you haven’t met Mr Wyndam have you?” he chuckles as Mitchell shakes his head.

“Not surprised to be honest, no offence but Bristol isn’t exactly the centre of the universe is it? He’s not a fan of your Mr Herrick; you did well to get away from all of that.” He sees how his expression shutters at the mention of William Herrick.

“Herrick said he killed someone’s mother, might have been Simeon.” He glances briefly at Alexander.

“Simeon doesn’t hold that against you Mitchell, yeah it caused a bit of a ding dong, handbags at dawn for a bit at the time but it’s all calmed down and it’s in the past,” Alexander tells him. Mitchell looks back at Charlie.

“What would my hours be?”

“Just a few a week as and when we need you, its easy money Mitchell, you’ll be laughing.” His tone turns persuasive, charming almost which puts him at odds with his appearance. His suit is almost as nasty as the glasses, cheap looking and ill fitting, there’s a cardigan under the jacket for Christ’s sake as well as a bow tie. He looks unassuming, unprepossessing, he looks like a fucking nerd.

“Once you get the hang of it and once people start realising that if they mess us around then they mess you around and start paying up, then we’ll start looking at other opportunities for you, more responsibility and of course, bigger pay packets, I think your young lady would like that part especially.” He watches Mitchell’s eyes flick to his face and he realises that he’s found his weak spot. He files it away for future reference.

“Do you need time to think about it?” he asks solicitously as he sees the depth of the frown on Mitchell’s face. Slowly he lifts his eyes and looks into Charlie’s sharp blue eyes, magnified by those ridiculous glasses.

“When do I start?” he asks. Charlie slowly smiles, it’s almost triumphant.

“How about today?”

* * *

 

There’s the promise of spring in the air, just a promise though. The sun shines warmly down on him as he emerges from the Tube station, but there’s still a chilly enough breeze blowing to remind him that winter had only been five minutes ago and wasn’t a distant enough memory. Mitchell pauses and he shivers slightly against the crisp chillness of it. He huffs out a breath. Charlie had written down the address of the place along with directions but it was burned into his brain all the same. He pushes his hands into the pockets of his overcoat and starts to walk.

He strides along the high street, past mothers with screaming kids and fractious toddlers, past old age pensioners with their shopping trolleys and shopping lists. He ignores them all; he has a purpose, a goal. Gradually the high street thins out and becomes more industrialised. He can hear the mournful blare of a lone foghorn in the distance and the stink of the river becomes more pronounced as he reaches his destination.

Once there he pauses. He glances around to see if he’s being watched. He more than likely is, he hopes that he is and he hopes that they recognise him and take notice. He takes a deep, deep breath and clenches his hands into fists. He lifts his right hand and he pounds hard on the wooden outer door. Three solid no-nonsense beats. Then he waits.

Silence greets him instead.

He listens and feels the annoyance at being kept waiting grow.

He bangs on the door again.

This time he hears movement behind the door and he stiffens his spine.

“Who’s it?” a gruff voice demands crossly.

“The fucking Avon lady who do you think? This door better be open in the next ten seconds or else,” he snarls, his patience unravelling rapidly.

“Whaddaya want?” the same voice growls back.

“Open the door and you’ll find out,” Mitchell retorts.

He hears the scratch of keys twisting and locks being unfastened. They sound ridiculously slow and laborious to him and as the door slowly begins to open, he lifts his leg and he kicks hard.

The door catapults open, catching whomever it is behind it full on. There’s an exclamation, a yelp of pain and an explosion of blood and teeth. Mitchell is inside in an instant and his hand is around his throat, catching him before he hits the ground.

“I don’t appreciate being kept waiting like a fucking idiot.” He hauls him upright. The doorman stares at him with wide eyes, his face a mess of blood and snot and saliva.

“What….who….” he splutters.

“Where’s Bobby Burton?” he demands and he tightens his grip and watches the doorman turn scarlet, hears the gurgle in his throat.

“I won’t fucking ask you again moron, where is he?” He turns his head and sees a doorway

“Through there? Is he through there?” he demands in an urgent voice and it’s all the doorman can do to nod. Mitchell lets go of him and flings him away and he hears him hit the ground, gasping for air.

“Stay there. If I see you in there, I guarantee it won’t be pretty,” he snarls, pointing at him. He strides through the door.

* * *

 

He walks along a narrow corridor. He can hear a phone ringing and a woman talking. Ahead of him is a partially glazed door and as he gets nearer, he can see the shadows of people moving around behind it and he can hear more voices and more laughter. The door then opens and someone else appears. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees Mitchell striding towards him.

“Hey…who the…” he exclaims.

“This Bobby Burton’s office?” Mitchell demands not breaking his stride. The man nods rapidly.

“Where’s Frankie?” he stammers out. Mitchell pushes past him.

“Is he the guy who you sent to unlock the door? I think you’d better get him to a dentist sharpish.” The man’s mouth drops open in astonishment. Mitchell then turns his head and sees another man sitting behind a desk. He’s staring at him with wide, scared eyes.

“Bobby I presume,” he announces. From the corner of his eye he sees his friend start to move towards him and he lets his eyes turn hell black.

“I really wouldn’t mate,” he warns him and he freezes. He looks back at Burton.

“You owe my boss a lot of money my friend and I’m here to collect,” he tells him.

“Who’s your boss?” Burton stammers and Mitchell rolls his eyes.

“Oh come on, you’re not that stupid, who do you think?” he retorts. He doesn’t turn when he hears who he assumes to be Frankie shuffle in behind.

“Jesus Christ….who _are_  you…” Burton breathes and Mitchell smiles slowly, coldly.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of me? I was in the south west for a while but I recently moved up here, the name’s John Mitchell.” He sees the dawning horror in Burton’s eyes.

“You’re…”

“I am indeed, now where’s my fucking money?” His voice hardens to a snarl.

Bobby Burton staggers to his feet.

“I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding Mr Mitchell…” he stammers and Mitchell watches him open and close desk drawers nervously. He lifts hopeful eyes to his face.

“Will a cheque be okay?” he asks. Mitchell stiffens as fresh anger fills him.

“Do I look like a fucking idiot Burton? You know the rules, it's cash in hand, in your case, two weeks’ worth of unpaid cash in my hand, right now otherwise I’ll knock out your fangs and give them to my girlfriend for earrings, do you understand me?” Burton’s eyes go as wide as saucers and his pale face loses even more colour. He swallows and then he swallows again.

“Perfectly,” he replies in a low voice.

“Then get it sorted.” He reaches into his pocket for his cigarettes and lights one. He looks at the other occupants in the room. They’re all staring at him with varying degrees of fear on their faces. Not one of them has tried to defend their boss. He smiles very softly to himself. He turns his attention back to Bobby Burton.

“I don’t want to spend any more time in this shit hole than I have to,” he snarls at him. He glances back around as Burton nods and scuttles out of the office. He’s gone barely a minute before he’s back with a brown envelope in his hand which he pushes towards Mitchell.

“Is it all here?” Mitchell demands, opening it and thumbing through the thick wodge of notes. Burton nods frantically then clears his throat nervously.

“Yeah…um…yeah, it’s all there, every penny.” Mitchell closes the envelope and tucks it into the inside pocket of his overcoat.

“For your sake, it had better be.”

“You know, you didn’t have to do that to Frankie.” Burton indicates the other man who’s now sat in a chair with a handkerchief over his bloodied face. Mitchell glances briefly at him.

“Maybe next time he’ll answer the door quicker. It won’t do him any harm to show some respect to his elders in future, consider it an education.” He stares at Burton.

“I’ll be back next week and this is what will happen. I don’t want any excuses, any bullshit. If you even try telling me you can’t pay for whatever reason, I’ll cut off one of your fingers until you do, until you can. You will learn, do you understand me? I don’t like excuses. When I show up, I expect to get paid.” Burton nods again.

“I understand Mr Mitchell and please send Mr Marshall and Mr Robinson my deepest apologies, it won’t happen again,” he stammers. Mitchell just nods the once and he turns. He looks at Frankie again.

“No hard feelings mate, it’s just business,” he tells him and he’s gone.

* * *

 

He walks back to the Tube station. The adrenaline is still pumping hard through his system and it makes him feel almost euphoric, invincible. He can feel the weight of the envelope against his heart and he smiles to himself. He starts to laugh.

 Charlie is right, it’s easy money indeed.

 


	7. Chapter Seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of Josie Hunter with one or two reminders thrown in for good measure.

**Seven:**

The alarm is shrill in its insistence. Josie rolls over, leans across him and reaches out an arm and slaps it off. She flops back down for a second before she lifts her head and looks at the lumpy outline of Mitchell slumbering on beside her. If he even heard the alarm going off he doesn’t show it. Still, he didn’t get in from work til the early hours so she doesn’t blame him.

Slowly she sits up and pushes her hair off her face. Early morning light pokes through the gap in the curtain and she squints at it. She climbs out of bed and once her feet hit the floor, she stretches.

“Hey…where are you goin’?” Mitchell’s voice is blurry with fatigue and she turns her head and looks at him. He’s watching her through half open eyes.

“I have to get ready for work,” she tells him in a low voice. He half sits up and captures her wrist.

“Awww, don’t go. Stay home and keep me company,” he begs. She slowly smiles. It sounds tempting, to climb back beneath the blankets with him and while the hours away. She can’t remember the last time she did that. She slowly shakes her head instead.

“Can’t.”

He sits up straighter. “Yeah you can.” He tugs her towards him. She laughs.

“I really can’t Mitchell, I need to get to work.” She pulls her hand free.

“I make enough now so you don’t have to,” he tells her and she hears the pout in his voice. She sighs.

“I know you do but I want to work, as tempting as it sounds, I just can’t sit around and do nothing all day.” She’s always worked since leaving school at sixteen, she’s used to providing for herself but she’s touched that Mitchell wants to take care of her.

She washes and dresses. The suit she chooses is new, from the last shopping trip that Mitchell took her on. Her wardrobe is full of new clothes and shoes. His new job is paying extremely well and it puzzles her. It was only supposed to be part time, to fit in around his hospital shifts but he packed the hospital in after a few weeks and is now working at the club full time. He also has cash to throw around, proof of which is sitting in her wardrobe, in the living room in the form of a new television and their own telephone.

She eats a lone breakfast. The flat is silent and she doesn’t even have the radio on for company.

* * *

 

She goes back into their bedroom. His eyes are closed. The blankets are pushed down to his waist and for a moment she allows herself the luxury of just looking at him, marvelling at him. He’s slender but well-muscled, considered by some as being wiry. He’d told her that he’d been a soldier before he was changed and she wonders whether his body frame has ever changed since then, does a vampire put on or lose weight? She shakes her head slightly at the ridiculous direction that her thoughts are taking her.

“Last chance,” he murmurs and she starts. She watches him open his eyes and smile at her. She can’t help but smile in response.

“I can’t,” she repeats.

She goes towards him and leans down and presses a kiss on his lips. “Don’t stay in bed all day now will you?” she tells him and his smile widens briefly before she turns and leaves.

* * *

 

She arrives at the office early and she sets about doing her usual tasks, putting the kettle on, sorting through the post and thinking about Mitchell. As she waits for the kettle to boil, she stares out of the window. It offers her a view of the bustling street below, filled with people going about their business. The sky is a big blue bowl with the promise of a warm spring day. She briefly toys with the idea of seeing if she can get an early finish; to spend some time with Mitchell before he has to go to work. It would be nice to share a meal with him, tell him about her day and look into those brown eyes of his for more than five minutes. They keep him busy at the club and she wonders what it is that they have him do for him to bring all that money in. She refuses to think that it could be anything bad, not after his promises, his appeals.

She makes tea and coffee for the senior partners, smiling shyly at James Hunter, the junior partner, the newest arrival. He’s nice looking in a shy blond kind of way. She’s aware of his eyes following her around the room as she hands out the tea and coffee cups. His murmured thank you makes her smile. At least someone appreciates her here.

“Hey, you up for lunch?” She turns her head and she smiles at Sarah French, a colleague and fellow legal secretary.

“Sure, why not? Any special reason?” she asks as she sits at her desk. Already there are a pile of documents in her in tray awaiting her attention. She sighs quietly. This hadn’t been her calling in life, to be someone’s legal secretary. She had visions of dancing. Her parents had paid for her to have dance classes when she’d been smaller and she’d really enjoyed it. She still keeps up with the stretching exercises most mornings. Mitchell has asked her why she hasn’t gone to college to study dance but it had been too expensive and she won’t let him pay for it even though she knows that he would in an instant if that’s what she wants.  If she wants to go back to college then she’ll pay for it herself.  For now it’s just a nice pipe dream.

“No real reason except for a chance to gossip,” Sarah replies and Josie smiles at her.

“Sure. Why not?” she replies.

* * *

 

An hour later she lifts her head when she hears a small commotion and her eyes widen when she sees the woman coming towards her, weaving her way through the desks, a precious little bundle in her arms. She sees Josie and she smiles at her. Josie gets to her feet and approaches her.

“Melanie, what are you doing here?” she breathes and then looks down at the baby in her arms. She feels a twinge of something in her heart.

“I came to show Michael off, just as I said I would, he’s six weeks old now.” Josie looks down at him, seeing his peachy plump cheeks, the long dark lashes fanned out against perfect skin.

“Here…” Josie opens her mouth to object but it’s too late and Melanie is carefully placing her son into her arms. Her breath escapes from her lungs in a rushed whisper of awe. He weighs next to nothing and he’s so warm and beautiful and real. A lock of fine blond hair peeks though the front of his bonnet and for the briefest of moments she imagines the blond hair is black and that the eyes that are blue will eventually turn sherry brown. The sudden ache of wanting is acute and at the same time shocking. She’s never thought about children before, or even about having children with Mitchell. She’s not even sure it’s possible. She’s sure that it isn’t but for another moment she dreams that it is. She makes herself look back at Melanie.

“He’s absolutely gorgeous,” she whispers and steals another look. His eyelids flutter and she holds her breath as they open and fix on her face. He seems to stare at her for an overlong moment and she smiles. She can smell milk, talcum powder and baby lotion and it’s a potent mix.

“Here, you better have him back,” she tells his mother and carefully hands him back. Melanie cradles him and sends her a knowing smile.

“Be careful, they’re addictive,” she warns her with a smile in her voice and she frowns at her.

“What? Babies?”

Melanie’s smile widens. “Yeah babies!, I saw the look in your eyes, your young man better be careful or you’ll be dragging him up the aisle and popping out babies of your own before he knows it,” she teases.

“Well for that to happen he has to propose in the first place,” she retorts and then stops herself. It’s far too soon to even think about that possibility and again she wonders whether it can be a possibility. He’s a vampire, technically he’s dead and then there’s the whole never aging, immortality deal. It fair makes her head spin. She takes a deep breath.

“I’m not looking to get married or have kids, not just yet,” she tells her with a bravado that she doesn’t really feel.

“Yeah right, if my bloke looked anything like yours, I’d have him up that aisle pronto before someone else steals him from under my nose.” Her eyes are twinkling but Josie feels anything but amused. She sends her a quick smile but her mind is churning.

* * *

 

Normally lunch is a sandwich brought from home chased down with a mug of hot unsweetened coffee with just a splash of water from the tap. Today she wants to escape the warm stuffiness of the office and get out. She wants to spend her lunch hour out in the sunshine and fresh air, there’s nothing better to clear away the cobwebs of her increasingly darkening thoughts. She stops by Sarah’s desk and it’s not long before they’re walking along the high street.

She fancies some chips and a fizzy drink and that’s what she goes for. She tends to feel a little bloated after drinking pop but she’s craving the sweetness. They go to a small park near to the office and find a bench to share beside the duck pond. 

“You okay?” Sarah asks, pinching a plump chip from her.  Josie frowns.

“I’m fine, why do you ask?” Sarah shrugs restlessly.

“Melanie doesn’t mean anything by what she said before; she thinks that just because she has a handsome husband and a baby that all women want the same thing. It’s okay not to y’know, it doesn’t make you a freak or anything.” Josie looks at her. How would she react to the notion that her boyfriend would definitely fall into the freak class by being a vampire.

“She’s just happy, there’s nothing wrong with that,” she replies instead. They eat in companionable silence for a little while, enjoying the warmth of the sun on their faces, listening to the ducks squawking and squabbling for bread scraps from other people enjoying their lunch hour.

“So how is Mitchell keeping these days?” Sarah interrupts and Josie looks away from the duck pond to look at her again.

“He’s fine. Working hard, the usual,” she replies vaguely. Sarah indicates the clothes Josie’s wearing.

“They’re new,” she comments and Josie glances down at them. She smiles faintly.

“He spoils me, what can I say?” she sighs and Sarah's smile broadens.

“Does he have a brother? Wish I had a boyfriend who spoiled me like that,” she replies enviously.

“No, he doesn’t have a brother,” Josie chuckles.

“A cousin, best friend maybe?” Sarah tacks on and Josie chuckles again and shakes her head. She wouldn’t like the company Mitchell keeps. That thought makes the smile vanish.

“He loves you, it’s so lovely to see the way he looks at you, like you’re the only woman in the universe for him,” Sarah sighs and Josie feels a blush warm her cheeks.

* * *

 

She’s the last to leave. She rinses out tea and coffee mugs, straightens up abandoned chairs and collects the post that needs to go out. The last office that she visits is James Hunter’s. The door is closed and for a moment she just stares at it.

She taps on the door and she waits. When he calls out for her to enter, she opens it and peeps her head around. He’s at his desk and surrounded by paperwork, files and books. He lifts his head and she sees that he’s deeply involved in what he’s doing and distracted as a result.

“Any mail to go out Mr Hunter?” she asks in her quiet voice. For a brief moment he frowns and looks around his cluttered desk.

“I know my secretary took some with her but there may be something left over.” His eyes alight on letters left in his In tray with envelopes attached.

“Ah…these need my signature.” He sounds a little embarrassed and she smiles softly.

“I can wait,” she tells him and she closes the office door behind her. He smiles back and indicates the chair opposite his desk.

“Why don’t you have a seat while I get on with them?” he suggests and she does so.

His office isn’t as big as the senior partner’s offices, it barely has enough space for his desk and the two chairs that it contains. She looks at him, at how his blond head is bent over his paperwork. She can hear his pen scratch out his signature time and time again. Once in a while he glances up at her with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about this,” he murmurs, a faint blush staining his cheeks.

“It’s okay.” She stands up when he straightens up and she takes the bundle of paperwork from him and spends a few minutes folding sheets of paper and slipping them into their addressed envelopes.

“Is that everything?” he asks her and she nods and bundles the envelopes together, making sure that she has them all.

“It’s Josie, right?” he enquires.

“Yes Mr Hunter,” she replies huskily.

“James. Please, call me James and I was wondering…whether you’d be…available one evening…for drinks and maybe dinner?” he suggests. Her eyes widen in surprise and for a second, her mind goes utterly blank.

“Ummm…I... already have a boyfriend,” she replies quietly and he looks away.

“Of course you do, never mind, forget I asked, it was just a thought.” He glances back at her and his smile is warm, easy and she doesn’t feel uncomfortable for turning him down. She clutches the envelopes closer to her chest.

“But thank you anyway,” she tells him and then turns and leaves.  James Hunter stares after her long after she’s left.

* * *

 

She lets herself into their flat. It’s quiet and she wonders whether Mitchell has been called in early to work again. He’s been called in three times this week already. He doesn’t tell her where he goes, just that it’s connected to work. He’s careful not to talk about it and that makes her a little bit suspicious. She closes the door behind her and drops her keys on the little hallway table. She shrugs off her jacket and she listens.

“Mitchell?” she calls. He pops his head out of the bathroom door. For a brief second his eyes are a little wide, a little startled. Then he smiles.

“Hey, there you are, you’re a bit late, was expecting you back half an hour ago.” He sounds a little bit breathless.

“Got held up at the post office that’s all. Is everything okay?” She slowly walks towards him. He comes out of the bathroom and she sees the towel wrapped around his waist.

“Having a bath at this time of the day?” she enquires. He takes a step towards her and presses a kiss on her lips. He smells of soap and tastes of toothpaste.

“Did you just get out of bed?” she sighs.

“Guilty,” he replies and she rolls her eyes. He pulls the bathroom door closed behind him.

“Mitchell…” she sighs.

“I’m sorry, it’s a bad habit, I can sleep the day away if I can,” he apologises. She just shakes her head and walks towards the living room.

“Are you going into work later?” she asks. He follows her.

“Tonight I’m all yours.”

She turns. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirms. A slow smile spreads across her face. She walks towards him.

“No phone calls?” He shakes his head.

“We can do something if you like, go out for a meal, go to the pictures, do...both…” His words falter as she reaches for the towel around his waist.

“Josie?”

She kisses him instead.

* * *

 

It’s a little later. Josie opens her eyes when she feels the bed move and she sees him get out of bed. He pulls on some underwear and a pair of jeans. She raises herself up and rests her head against a hand and watches him walking around the room, she could get used to seeing him wandering around half naked. He opens his wardrobe and she watches him rifle through the pockets of one of his suits.

“What are you doing?” she asks him and he jumps.

“Jesus Josie,” he breathes, turning to look at her. She slowly smiles.

“Sorry, I thought you heard me.”

“What? Breathe? My hearing’s not _that_ good,” he mutters and returns his attention to his clothes. She watches him take something out of a jacket pocket and then come over to her. She sits up and tucks the blankets under her arms.

“I got you something,” he tells her and her eyes widen marginally.

“You shouldn’t keep doing this Mitchell,” she breathes. He shrugs restlessly.

“I want to.” He gives her the small square box and her heart rattles in her chest for a moment. She looks at it and then back at him with wide blue eyes.

“Mitchell,” she breathes.

“Open it,” he urges her. She stares at him for a moment longer, all of a sudden going hot and cold. She looks down at it and with trembling fingers, she prises open the box.

She stares at it.

“Oh Mitchell,” she breathes and she lifts it out and holds it in the palm of her hand.

“Do you like it?” he asks. She looks at him and she smiles.

“It’s beautiful,” she replies. She looks down at it.

It’s a small silver charm, of the letter ‘J’. The small diamonds catch the early evening light and sparkle.

“We’ll take your bracelet to the jewellers and get it put on. I saw it yesterday and I was choosing the right time to give it to you,” he tells her. She replaces it in the box and puts it on her bedside table.

“It’s still early enough to go out if you want,” he tells her and she just shakes her head and lies back down.

“What’s the matter?” he asks after a moment. Her eyes return to his face.

“There’s nothing wrong,” she tells him and he rolls his eyes.

“There’s one thing I can do and that is read a person. I know when someone is happy, sad or pissed off and you’re veering between sad and pissed off and I don’t know why.” His voice is low, urgent. Josie sighs and she sits up again.

“I’m just a little bit out of sorts, that’s all,” she confesses and Mitchell frowns.

“Why?”

She looks at him. “Just about different things, an ex-colleague brought her baby into work today, he’s six weeks old and just gorgeous.” She smiles softly. “She was teasing me a little bit, saying I’d be next and all of that…” Her voice fades when she sees the frown on Mitchell’s face.

“What?” she asks and his eyes flick to her face.

“Do you want kids?” he asks her and her eyes widen marginally.

“Maybe…one day, yeah,” she answers eventually. She watches him turn so that he’s facing away from her.

“I suppose you want it all; marriage, a nice house, a couple of kids, the whole nine yards,” he mutters and he looks down at his hands.

“Again, one day, someday.” He turns his head and looks at her and his expression is dark.

“I can’t give you that Josie; I can’t give you any of that. A vampire can’t have kids, it wouldn’t make sense for me to father a kid and stay the same while they grow older.” He looks away. “I thought you knew that,” he adds. She moves towards him and she touches him.

“I said one day Mitchell, not right now. I’m happy with everything the way it is now, just you and me living here together. Right now that’s all I want, right now all I want is you and only you.”

He looks at her again.

“But one day you will want all that, and you _should_ have it, you’d be a great mother, you’re kind and caring and you’d be fantastic with a couple of kids hanging off your arms. I can see it all in my head but they wouldn’t be my kids.” She hears the pain in his voice.

“It doesn’t matter,” she soothes but he shakes his head.

“One day it will. One day it will be all you can think of and you’ll resent me for not being able to give you that. I can’t marry you, I can’t give you kids, I can’t seem to be able to do much of anything for you.” Her eyes widen and she feels hot tears spring.

“Mitchell.” She touches his mouth with her fingers.

“Forget I said anything. Please. I love you, that’s all that matters.” She feels the tears spill over. She lowers her head and rests it against his shoulder.

* * *

 

She climbs out of bed. She has no idea of the time as she unhooks her dressing gown from the back of the door and slips it on. She ties the knot securely and leaves the room. She feels warm and a bit sticky and the thought of a bath sounds like heaven right now. She goes into the bathroom and switches on the light. She squints against the brutal strength of the light as it floods every corner of the small room.

She sees the bag half hidden beneath the sink and she stares at it for a moment. She goes over to it and kneels down beside it. She pulls it towards her and looks inside. She slowly pulls out a jacket, a pair of black trousers and a white shirt. She unfolds the shirt. It’s creased, obviously worn and her eyes widen in horror at the blood that stains the front of it. It splatters the collar, down along the button band and on the cuffs. She drops it as if it’s boiling hot. Cold shock floods through her and she presses her hands against her mouth.

“Oh God. Mitchell,” she whispers against tears that suddenly threaten. She feels nausea rise and burn in her throat.

* * *

 

He flinches against the sudden flood of viciously bright light.

“What the fuck…” he exclaims and sits up, squinting pretty much as she had earlier.

“What the hell is this?” she demands and she throws the shirt at him. He grabs at it and frowns at her.

“It’s my shirt,” he answers, his brain still foggy from sleep and it’s then that he registers her tears, her anger and he looks down at the crumpled piece of clothing in his lap. He swallows and looks up at her again.

“Josie…”

“There’s _blood_ on there Mitchell, a lot of blood. Please don’t tell me that you hurt someone…or worse.” Her eyes are wide and her voice lowers to a scandalised whisper. His own eyes go wide.

“No!” he exclaims. He goes towards her but she takes a step back.

“Josie I swear, it’s not what you think,” he stammers.

“Then tell me what it is,” she demands. He looks back at the bloodied shirt.

“One of the barmen cut himself on some broken glass earlier, it bled like a bastard and I got it all over me, that’s all, I swear I didn’t hurt anyone, I didn’t touch any of it.”

“There’s blood all over it Mitchell, it can’t have come from a simple cut!” she exclaims.

“It was a _bad_ cut, he got taken to hospital, if you don’t believe me, call the club, Linda or Rosemary will confirm it. I didn’t do anything wrong, I tried to help him and you’re thinking I did something much worse!” he retaliates.

“Why try to hide it from me like that?” she demands.

“Because I knew you’d suspect the worse and you’d go bananas, which you have,” he replies, watching her carefully. She sighs.

“You don’t have to hide anything from me Mitchell, I trust you.”

“Not completely, you thought I’d killed someone, you didn’t ask how the blood got there, you just automatically assumed that I’d slipped.” He doesn’t get angry or defensive now and it makes her feel even worse.

“I’m sorry,” she apologises. He holds out a hand and slowly she goes to him. He kneels up on the mattress and draws her up against him.

“It’s okay,” he whispers and he kisses her. She feels herself weaken and as he reaches for the tie of her dressing gown, she loses herself in the emotions, in him.

 Again. 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell gets an education of a kind courtesy of Charlie Robinson.

**Eight:**

It’s the first time that he’s been here and he’s cautious. He walks slowly past the desks and casts the occupants suspicious looks. They pretty much ignore him; one or two of them glance at him as he walks by but don’t give him another look. His mouth is dry as he follows the young blond WPC to a small office at the back of the room and waits behind her as she taps on the door and pops her head in.

“A Mr John Mitchell is here to see you Guv,” she informs him.

“Send him in. Any chance of any tea coming this way?” he hears Charlie enquire.

“Sure, coming up.” She stands to one side to allow Mitchell to go inside. He smiles his thanks.

“Would you like a cup of tea Mr Mitchell?” she enquires and he shakes his head and he watches her dimple a smile Charlie’s way before closing the door. Mitchell turns to look at Charlie.

“She looks like she’s just left school,” he comments and sits on the chair that Charlie indicates.

“I think she’s a kick in the arse off thirty,” he replies and Mitchell raises a surprised eyebrow.

“Really? She doesn’t look it.”

“I suppose at our ages, thirty is practically infancy. How have you been?” He watches Mitchell sit back in his seat and cross his right ankle over his left knee. He jiggles his left leg nervously, a compulsion Charlie is beginning to recognise.

“Okay, no complaints,” he replies.

“I heard Joey Campbell tried to give you some jip the other day.”

“The word being tried, made a bit of a mess but he paid up, just about ruined my suit though.” 

“I can imagine your young lady wasn’t happy about that.” Charlie watches how Mitchell’s expression shutters. He still won’t talk about her to him. He opens a desk drawer and sifts through its contents for a moment. At that moment there’s a discreet knock on the door and the blonde WPC returns, carrying a steaming hot mug of tea. She smiles at them both as she comes in and places the mug on the desk beside him. Charlie looks up at her and he smiles.

“Thank you Sally, much appreciated,” Mitchell watches how she turns a little pink and he looks back at Charlie. It’s like a bell going off in his head; the WPC is sweet on Charlie. He swallows down a smile and lowers his head and keeps it down til she leaves.

“I think she likes you,” Mitchell comments when he hears the door click closed. Charlie picks up the mug and takes a sip.

“Who, Sally?” he just shrugs and then he grimaces and put the mug back down.

“She can’t make tea worth shit though, too sweet.” He pushes it across to him.

“You like yours sweet enough to rot your teeth, you have it.” Mitchell just shakes his head and then wonders belatedly, how does he know how he likes his tea?

“I believe you have something for me?” Charlie reminds him and watches as Mitchell reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and takes out a crumpled brown envelope. He hands it over and watches him open it and peek inside. He watches his eyes light up as he upends the contents onto his cluttered desk.

“Is that okay?” he asks, watching him count it all. He slowly lifts his head and he looks at Mitchell.

“Okay? Mitchell this is absolutely amazing! I told you once word that Big Bad John was about that people would start paying up and on time, word travels fast and those who try and play silly buggers quickly learn not to,” he informs him gleefully, he peels off a thick wedge of notes and he tosses it across the desk.

“Your cut,” he tells him and he watches Mitchell’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open as he picks it up. He looks at Charlie in stunned amazement.

“There’s close to four hundred quid here,” he whispers and Charlie just shrugs.

“So? You’ve earned it, call it a performance bonus from the Head Office and enjoy it, take your young lady out on the town and have a good time with it.” He looks back down at it. The possibilities are endless, they can go anywhere, do anything with this kind of cash.

“Head Office are very impressed with you young man, keep this up and you’ll have a bright and rosy future ahead of you,” Charlie tells him. The mention of Head Office pushes all thoughts of the cash in his hands out of his mind. He folds it up and shoves it in his inside pocket. He looks back at Charlie. His eyes are magnified behind those awful glasses. He watches him take them off. He opens his desk drawer again and takes out a small white card. He reaches across his desk and gives it to him. Mitchell frowns as he looks at it. It’s of a launderette that’s near to the Moonlight and he looks at him in askance.

“For your soiled shirts and suits, they’re good at their stuff and don’t ask any questions. Helps that Alexander owns the business,” he grins. “They also deliver to the club so you could leave a supply of shirts and a couple of suits there, just in case,” he suggests and Mitchell slowly nods. It makes sense and it would stop Josie asking too many uncomfortable questions. He pushes it in his pocket alongside the money.

“Thanks.”

“Just tell them Charlie sent you, you’ll get a good discount,” he adds and Mitchell smiles faintly. He watches Charlie stand up.

“Can I give you a lift anywhere?” he asks as he shrugs on an overcoat and pats down his pockets as if making sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. The money Mitchell has collected is back in its envelope and Mitchell watches him push it into one of the pockets. It’s then that he becomes aware of the steady spatter of rainfall against the small office window. He doesn’t fancy walking home in that. He gets to his feet.

“Sure, that’d be grand thanks,” he replies.

* * *

 

Mitchell does a double take at the sight of the Jaguar.

“Whoa, nice car,” he comments in a low voice, admiring the gleaming dark green paintwork. Charlie smiles at him as he unlocks the driver’s door and gets in. He leans across and unlocks the passenger door and watches Mitchell climb in.

“A present to myself, it’s something isn’t it? The best thing that ever happened was the invention of the combustion engine. Could never be bothered with horses, they hated me and I hated the bastards right back.” Mitchell can’t help himself, he chuckles as Charlie starts the car and the engine purrs into life like a contented kitten. The grin Charlie flashes at him is one of pure pleasure.

“I don’t ask for much but a nice car makes life just that bit better don’t you think?” Mitchell thinks of his Volvo parked outside of the flat. He doesn’t use it all that often, preferring to walk or take the Tube to get where he needs to be. Maybe he could get a new car? He ponders the idea for a moment or two.

* * *

 

They crawl through the Friday night rush hour traffic. The rain spatters against the windshield, the wipers slap it away. Mitchell watches it, it’s surprisingly hypnotic.

“So…it’s Friday night, you have any plans?” Charlie enquires and Mitchell looks at him, slightly startled by his question.

“Anything my girl wants to do…I owe her that much,” he answers and Charlie looks at him.

“Oh?” Mitchell turns his head and looks out of the window.

“She found the suit Joey Campbell all but ruined, saw the shirt, I had to think on my feet, she doesn’t know about…that part of what I do,” he answers in a slow, reluctant tone. He then looks back at him.

“Ah,” Charlie sighs.

“Can I be honest with you?” Mitchell asks him and Charlie takes his eyes off the road and the traffic to look at him.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you Mitchell,” he replies calmly. Mitchell sighs slowly.

“Josie…she’s not like…”

“Like us?” He watches him nod.

“She’s not a vampire but she obviously knows that you are. You came all the way from Bristol to London to be with her, you’ve sworn off blood and you’re living together like a human couple. We already know all of this.” He returns his attention to the road and Mitchell feels a frisson of alarm shoot through him. The car slows at a set of traffic lights on red and Mitchell turns his head to look out of the window. His hand searches for the door handle. He can feel the panic begin to rise. His fingernails scrape along the inside of the door.

“You already...what the _fuck_ …let me out, I’m getting out!” he snarls at him. He begins to punch at the window which makes more than one pedestrian stare at him strangely.

“Jesus Mitchell… _Mitchell_ calm down son, no one’s at risk here!” Charlie retorts, his voice rising at the threat of damage to his precious Jag. Mitchell’s head snaps around to scrutinise him, a deep frown on his face. It makes him look intimidating, downright _dangerous._

“What are you talking about, no one’s at risk? We’re talking about the Old Ones, Head Office; they don’t take kindly to humans knowing about us…” Mitchell hisses at him. Charlie sighs and clicks the indicator and turns into a side alley. He parks and switches off the engine. The ensuing silence is deafening.

“Listen, you forget, I’m a copper. Did you think I would hire you to do what you’re doing without researching you first? Sure your reputation is legendary all by itself but I do my homework, there’s nothing I don’t know about you.” He watches him fold his arms and his chin hit his chest. He shifts slightly in his seat to face Mitchell face on.

“We have something in place here Mitchell, and it’s called quid pro quo and basically it means that if you scratch my back then I’ll scratch yours. You keep doing what you’re doing, you keep making money hand over fist, you help Alexander maintain his reputation, you keep me happy and in return you’ll be left in peace, you and your girlfriend will be left to live your wannabe human lives.” He watches him carefully.

“You can’t protect us from the Old Ones,” Mitchell mumbles. Charlie leans forwards very slightly and Mitchell lifts his head.

“Oh yes I can,” he informs him in a soft voice. He sees the puzzlement cross his face.

“How...wait a minute…” He looks into his eyes and they widen slightly.

“How old?” he asks and Charlie slowly smiles.

“Do you know when the Wars of the Roses happened Mitchell?” he asks him and watches him shake his head.

“That’s when I was recruited, by Alexander, his rumoured nickname was The Great but I don’t know if that’s true or just a rumour that got out of control.” He sighs quietly. “Close your mouth Mitchell, you’re catching flies,” he tells him.

“As you know, we can and do live phenomenally long lives so it’s not unusual to want to seek companionship, to find someone that you want to spend some time with. With us, if that need for companionship turns into something more…meaningful then we have ways to make sure that happens.” He sees the confusion on his face and his sigh is louder.

“Fuck me, Edgar was right about Herrick, he is a prick.” He starts the car again and merges back into the late afternoon traffic.

Mitchell sits miserably beside Charlie and the rest of the journey passes in silence.

* * *

 

Mitchell lifts his head when the car stops again and he realises that they’re outside of the flats.  For a moment all that can be heard is the sound of the rain pattering on the roof and windows of the car.

“You alright?” Charlie asks him and Mitchell looks at him. He makes an attempt to rouse himself.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry just a lot to take in,” he answers. He reaches for the door handle. “Thanks for the lift,” he tells him and Charlie reaches across and grabs his upper arm. Mitchell’s head swings back around and the look he sends Charlie is dark.

“Careful. I don’t like being touched,” he warns him. It doesn’t make Charlie loosen his grip or even let go of him.

“Don’t go looking for a fight Mitchell; I’m not the enemy here,” Charlie retorts and Mitchell sighs and looks out of the window.

“Go out tonight, get pissed, have a good time. I’ll be at the Moonlight tonight if you want to talk some more, alright?” Mitchell doesn’t respond and Charlie tightens his grip forcing him to look back at him.

“Alright?” he reiterates and Mitchell just nods. Charlie lets go of his arm and watches him climb out of the car.

He’s barely aware of the rain as he stands on the pavement and watches the car pull away. He shivers and doesn’t know if it’s actually cold or it’s down to the chill that has suddenly invaded his bones.  He waits until the car is out of sight before turning and going into the building.

* * *

 

The flat is empty. He checks his watch. Josie will be home soon. He hangs up his jacket and then remembers the money Charlie gave him and he takes it out and for a moment he looks at it. He wonders whether it’s all worth it.

She smiles at him as she comes through the door. He watches her shrug her raincoat off and hang it up beside his.

“You okay?” she asks after stealing a hello kiss. He makes himself smile.

“Yeah. Hey do you want to go out tonight? I thought we could go to the Moonlight? It’s been ages since we danced and got pissed, what do you say?” Her eyes sparkle and she smiles

“It sounds like a plan. Do I have time to have a bath first?” he smiles and kisses her again.

“Take all the time you need, “he tells her and watches her go into their bedroom.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Mitchell shows the more gentlemanly side of his nature, he gets nothing but trouble in return.

**Nine:**

They’ve both had too much to drink. The cab lets them out into the silent street and they all but tumble out of it, giggling like children. Mitchell keeps his arm around her shoulders as he pays the cabbie and they stagger along the path to the front door.

It takes Josie more than one attempt to get the key into the lock, all the time laughing far too loudly for the time of night with Mitchell shushing her and eventually taking the keys from her to have a try. He doesn’t have much more success but eventually they gain access.

It’s later and he’s all but poured her into bed. He likes it when she’s had a bit too much to drink, she’s softer somehow, funny and drier. She’s more affectionate and definitely more demonstrative if her attempts to get him out of his clothes were anything to go by.

His head is spinning a little as he stumbles into the living room. He’s weary but not tired enough to want to sleep. He slumps heavily into an armchair and stares into space.

He allows himself to think about what Charlie revealed to him earlier. He’s heard of the Old Ones, those at Head Office as Charlie calls them but it has never crossed his mind that either Charlie or Alexander would be part of that organisation but it makes sense to him now. Herrick has hinted at the existence of the Old Ones but never gone into any great detail. Now he knows why.

He makes himself some coffee in a bid to sober up.  After a while he goes back into the bedroom and sees Josie sleeping peacefully. There’s a slight smile on her face and for a moment he just watches her and he envies her the peace. Her left hand is tucked beneath her cheek and her right hand rests lightly on the crumpled bedspread. He notices the plain gold band that she wears; it’s from the weekend in Bristol. He smiles softly, touched that she still wears it.

* * *

 

“Mitchell, your suits and shirts are back from the launderette,” Rosemary informs him as he comes through the door. He regards her curiously. She looks as if she’s been waiting for him to show up. He smiles at her.

“Thanks sweetheart,” he replies in a soft voice and she smiles and blushes pinkly. She walks beside him as he strides towards the men’s changing room.

“I hung them up beside your locker ready and Mr Marshall would like a word with you when you get a chance.”

They pause beside the door and Mitchell frowns mildly.

“Does he now? Would you know what it’s about?”

Rosemary shakes her head. “No but Mr Robinson is there too.” She watches how he glances upwards, towards the staircase. He looks back at her.

“I’ll be up in a couple of minutes,” He touches her shoulder “and thanks for the other stuff,” he murmurs and he smiles as she grins at him. He watches her head towards the staircase and there’s a veritable skip to her step.

“Oh isn’t that nice?” another voice interrupts dryly and Mitchell pauses, his hand on the door handle. His spine stiffens. He waits and she comes from behind him and pauses in front of him. Even at this time of the morning, Victoria’s make up is immaculate. She’s dressed in designer clothing and her perfume catches the back of his throat. She looks Mitchell up and down.

“She’s a sweet girl,” he tells her and twists the door knob and he goes inside. He heads for his locker and he sees the suit bags and the covered hangers that hold three of his shirts right where Rosemary said they would be. He opens his locker and puts them inside.

“You know, if you show her the right kind of affection then you can make her do anything that you want.” He looks at her over one shoulder. Her arms are folded and she’s leaning up against a row of lockers.

“Don’t you have somewhere you need to be? Like a shop or a hairdresser?” he asks in a low voice. She straightens up as Mitchell closes his locker door and turns the key. He drops it into his pocket and turns as she walks towards him.

“I’m just saying… she’s perfectly open to manipulation.” She stops in front of him and her perfume is overpowering. He wonders whether its deliberate. He frowns at her.

“I don’t want to manipulate her, that’s not how I work,” he tells her. Her answering smile is slow. She takes a half step towards him and as he backs up, his back hits the locker with an audible thud. It’s almost deafening in the otherwise empty room.

“Oh I’ve heard how you work John, through fear and that frown of yours, it can terrify the hardiest of souls.” He stiffens when he feels her hand touch his thigh. It begins a slow slide upwards.

“Fear is an amazing aphrodisiac,” she murmurs. He takes a breath and then reaches down and grabs her wrist. He lifts her hand up.

“I think you need to learn some boundaries, namely not to cross mine,” he whispers to her. Her eyes widen in shock. She takes a step back and rips her arm away from his grip. The look she fires at him is positively lethal as she turns and storms out.

* * *

 

Mitchell hurries up the stairs and into Alexander’s outer office. He pauses by Rosemary’s desk. It’s then that he notices the birthday cards and the box of chocolates on her desk. She lifts her head and looks at him. Her smile is endearing.

“Is it your birthday today?” he asks and sees the surprise in her eyes. She nods.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he teases and sees her face turn red. She looks back down at her typewriter.

“Happy Birthday Rosemary,” he wishes and she slowly lifts her head again and looks into his eyes. Her smile is very shy.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“Tell you what, meet me downstairs at noon and I’ll take you out to lunch.” Her eyes just about pop out of their head in shock.

“Oh…you don’t have to do that…” she stammers and he rolls his eyes.

“Of course I do, I insist. Say you will?” He smiles at her and sees how she seems to flounder and flail and then her shoulders slump in defeat.

“Okay. Thank you.” She’s blushing fiercely now.

“Grand. I’ll meet you downstairs for noon?” he suggests and she just nods.

“Mitchell, Alexander will see you now,” Linda interrupts.

“Noon now, don’t stand me up,” he tells Rosemary and heads into Alexander’s office.

* * *

 

He can see that Alexander is pissed off and momentarily he feels nerves quiver in the pit of his stomach. Charlie is standing beside the window and is watching him pace. Mitchell pauses by the desk and waits. Alexander finally stops and he turns to look at him.

“Where have you been?” he hisses and Mitchell’s eyes widen in surprise.

“I only just got here, Rosemary delivered your message, I had something else that needed my attention,” he replies calmly.

“When I say that I need to see you then you come to see me immediately, when I tell you to jump, the next words out of your mouth better be how _fucking_ high!” Alexander yells back at him and Mitchell stiffens.

“I got in the door five minutes ago…” He catches sight of Charlie subtly shaking his head and he closes his mouth and silently fumes instead.

“What’s wrong?” he asks dourly.

“We have a small problem,” Alexander begins. Charlie straightens up and approaches Alexander and touches his shoulder. Alexander turns his head subtly and then just nods.

“Are you familiar with the Morgan family?” Charlie asks him and Mitchell frowns. He shakes his head.

“They’re a nest further up West and usually they’re a pretty well behaved bunch. I say usually but they’re giving us a bit of trouble at the minute.” Charlie pauses and he frowns too.

“Trouble how?” Charlie looks at him again.

“One of their members is threatening to go public.”

“Fucking upstart…..I’ll _tear_ him limb from fucking limb,” Alexander interrupts furiously.

“Alexander…please…” Charlie soothes and Alexander sighs impatiently.

“Where do I come into this?” Mitchell asks. Alexander looks at him.

“We’re going to pay them a visit, or at least _you’re_ going to, you’re going to go and see them and you’re going to persuade them that going public really isn’t in their best interest,” he tells him. Mitchell turns his attention to Charlie who sighs raggedly.

“The person you need to talk to is Arthur Morgan; he’s the one threatening to make waves. He’s had a personal tragedy and is on a bit of a suicide mission,” he explains. Mitchell absorbs this information and he nods.

“Okay. When do you want me to pay them a visit?” he enquires.

“If it was up to me then it’d be now but Charles here suggests tonight. They’ll be at their headquarters plotting no doubt. I have eyes on them at all times but tonight is the best option.” Alexander sends Charlie a grudging look.

“They’ll be expecting you to strike now Alexander, make ‘em wait and make ‘em wonder and we’ll strike tonight, or Mitchell will, they won’t know what’s hit them” The smile Charlie sends Mitchell is conspiratorial. Mitchell nods in agreement.

“I can do that. What time do you want me there?”

“I’ll let you know, just be available.” Mitchell nods again.

* * *

 

He’s waiting for Rosemary as promised at noon and she seems surprised to see him standing there.

“I thought you’d forget,” she tells him shyly as she joins him at the bottom of the staircase. They exit the club and out into the bright early summer sunshine. He offers his arm and she tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow.

“As if,” he replies as they merge into the busy lunchtime crowds.

“It’s only a birthday,” she responds and he looks at her. Her red hair tumbles down between her shoulder blades and shines in the sunshine. She smells of flowers. Her skin is milk pale and those green eyes of hers are hidden by frankly ugly glasses. She has a tendency to hide behind them.

“Birthdays should be celebrated, so lunch is on me, okay?” he smiles at her and she smiles back.

“Okay. Thank you Mitchell,” she whispers. He feels a bloom of pleasure at the gratitude in her voice.

* * *

 

He takes her to a small Italian trattoria close by and her eyes are wide. It’s quite busy but straight away they’re shown to a small table beside the window. Mitchell watches the waiter fuss around her and sits after she’s ceremoniously seated. By now she’s rather red and flustered. He sits down opposite her and smiles.

“A bit too much for you?” Rosemary just nods. He watches her, Josie had hated it too when he’d brought her here one time.

She refuses the offer of wine and sticks with a soft drink which he thinks is quite sensible considering she has to go back to the office afterwards. He orders a beer and nurses it while she peruses the oversized menu.

“Have you ever had Italian food before?” he asks her and she lifts wide green eyes his way.

“Does it show?” He smiles gently.

“Only to me,” he teases “The pasta is good here and it won’t sit in your stomach like a brick afterwards,” he tells her. Her answering smile is quick and she drops her eyes back down to the menu for a moment.

“Have you been here before?” she asks and she sees him nod.

“I’ve brought my girlfriend here a couple of times,” he confides and her eyes widen very marginally.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, have you been together for long?” He regards her.

“Just over a year. I met her here; I lived in Bristol so it was hard to see each other.”

“So you moved here. How are you finding it?” She lowers the menu and looks at him.

“It’s much busier than Bristol but I like it that way,” he replies and he wonders why he’s telling her all this stuff.

“How are you finding it here? Alexander told me that you moved here from the sticks?” He watches how she smiles and rolls her eyes. Her innocence is very sweet and feels comforting to him.

“I found it terrifying for the first couple of months, I lost count of how many times I wanted to pack my job in and run home to my mum and dad.”

“Where’s home?” he asks her.

“Brighton,” she replies and Mitchell smiles in reminiscence.

“Ah Brighton…” he sighs and her eyes light up with interest.

“You’ve been to Brighton?” he laughs and nods.

“Yeah…back in…” He pauses as he remembers exactly when, back in 1939, right before the outbreak of World War Two. The words freeze in his mouth.

“A while ago, had a lot of fun there,” he answers instead. The look Rosemary sends him is mildly puzzled but they’re distracted by the arrival of the waiter to take their order.

* * *

 

Josie leaves the office with the purpose of lunch in mind. She walks with Sarah and listens to her bright chatter with half an ear. They pause to cross the street and Josie watches the cars drive by, not really paying much attention.

“Hey…isn’t that your Mitchell?” she hears Sarah enquire and her mind snaps back to full attention when she hears her mention his name. Quickly her eyes scan the street but she doesn’t see him and she frowns in confusion.

“Where?” she asks breathlessly and Sarah points across to a building with a huge plate glass shop front which is partly veiled by red velvet curtains. It’s then that she recognises it as being Rossetti’s, a restaurant she’s been to with Mitchell. Her eyes widen in horror when she sees him sitting at a table there.

“Who’s that bird he’s with then?” Sarah breathes. Josie just stares at them and feels the hurt pound down on her as she watches him lean across and cover one of her hands with his own and smile into her eyes. She feels hot tears swell treacherously in her eyes.

“I don’t know,” she whispers.

“What a bastard,” Sarah retorts loyally but Josie spins and storms away the way she’d come, wiping at the tears that have spilled over.

* * *

 

He watches her finish her ice cream and he smiles when she sits back in her seat and sighs with satisfaction. Then her eyes widen with embarrassment and he watches her blush.

“Oh my God, that must seem so provincial,” she gasps, covering her face with both hands. Mitchell can’t help himself, he laughs.

“Oh no, it’s very…endearing to see a girl enjoy her food, don’t worry about it. Do you want another drink?” He watches her check her watch and her eyes widen again.

“No, I need to get back to the office or I’ll be in trouble, it’s not often I get taken out for lunch.”

“It’s your birthday, you’re allowed.” He turns in his seat and beckons the waiter over. He pays the bill and leaves a tip and together they leave.

* * *

 

They pass a florist and Mitchell insists on buying her flowers as a gift and she laughs and accepts. He grins as he presents them to her with a flourish and a kiss on the cheek.

He walks her back to her office. She’s feeling flushed, happy and giggly, the paper and ribbons around her flowers crinkling in her arms.

There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he helps her out of her coat and he smiles at Linda who slowly smiles back, seeing the stars in her young assistant’s eyes.

“Thank you for lunch Mitchell, it was lovely,” Rosemary smiles and he gives a little bow.

“Glad you had a good time. I’d better go before Linda kicks me out.” He glances at her and then makes his departure, closing the door quietly behind him.

Rosemary watches Linda approach her desk. She smiles as she picks up the flowers.

“You look like you had a nice time.”

Rosemary’s expression turns misty as she nods.

“I did. It _was_ nice,” she agrees. Linda lifts the flowers to her face and she gently inhales.

“He has a girlfriend Rosemary, by all accounts one he’s extremely devoted to. I don’t want you to read any more into this lunch date than what it was,” she warns her and sees her eyes widen.

“It wasn’t anything like that, he was a perfect gentleman,” she defends and Linda slowly shrugs.

“I’m sure he was but it’s very easy to fall under the spell of a man like that, that face, that accent, it’s very easily done.” She lifts the flowers slightly.

“I’ll go find a vase and put these in water for you,” she tells her and Rosemary watches her walk away.

* * *

 

Mitchell heads back to the flat a little bit later. He wants to rest up before going back to the club and deal with whatever Alexander and Charlie have planned for him and his visit to the Morgan family nest later tonight.

He hangs up his jacket and loosens his tie and then stops in his tracks when he sees Josie sitting on the sofa.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks as he removes the cufflinks from his shirt sleeves and rolls them back. She doesn’t respond immediately and he frowns.

“Josie?” She lifts her face and the look in her eyes is censorious. He feels his stomach dip threateningly. He swallows.

“What’s the matter?” he asks eventually and he slips his cufflinks into his trouser pocket. He watches her frown against tears that seem to come out of nowhere and his eyes widen in alarm.

“What’s going on? I’m not a bloody mind reader.” He goes to her. She jumps to her feet and at the same time she rubs the tears away with the back of one hand.

“Nothing’s going on Mitchell,” she whispers and storms past him and out of the living room. He huffs out a sigh.

“Oh yeah right, so next time I come back from work and find you here in the middle of the day and you burst into tears I’m just to think that it’s nothing then am I?” he retaliates, following her out and into their bedroom. He watches as she pulls a bag out from beneath their bed.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he exclaims, feeling alarm rise inside of him. She doesn’t reply, just sends him an absolutely vile look. She goes to her dressing table and yanks open a drawer. He watches her extract a pile of clothes and dump them into the bag. She turns to do it again but he grabs hold of her shoulders.

“Josie, what’s going on?” he demands angrily. She pushes at him but he tightens his hold on her.

“Tell me what’s going on, what have I done?”  She pushes at his chest again but he doesn’t let go.

“I saw you today, with _her,_ ” she snarls at him. He dodged away as she lifts a leg to kick at him.

“Who?” he asks and she lifts her head and glares at him.

“The redhead, at Rossetti’s, why would you take her there?” she demands. He frowns and then his eyes widen.

“Jesus Josie, that was _Rosemary_ , I took her out for lunch because it was her birthday!” he defends.

“Rosemary? Who’s _she_?”

“The secretary’s assistant, she helps me out sometimes.”

“Oh I just bet she does!”

“It’s not like that, for fucks sake, she’s a sweet girl, harmless, and how could you possibly think I’d be interested in her like that?” he demands angrily.

“Because of the way you were looking at her! I saw you touch her, hold her hand! Women fall over you Mitchell, they _always_ fall over you!” she yells back. Mitchell’s mouth falls open for a moment and he shakes his head.

“I enjoy her company Josie, like I said she’s harmless, she’s very sweet and she doesn’t look at me like she’s terrified of me, like she thinks I’m going to go native and attack her,” he snarls back at her, his eyes darkening. Josie’s eyes go wide with shock.

“What are you talking about?” He lets go of her then.

“Oh come on, just admit it, you think about it all the time.” He pulls his fingers through his hair.

“Is this about the shirt the other night?”

“You didn’t ask me about it Josie, you just jumped to the wrong conclusion and you did it again today. You’re just really quick to accuse me of the worst.”

“Mitchell…” He looks at her and he looks tired, resigned.

“Where are you planning to go?” He indicates the bag and she looks at it. All the anger and the fight has gone out of her.

“Sarah’s, she’s a colleague,” she mumbles, looking back at him. She reaches for him.

“Mitchell…I’m sorry…” The look he sends her is sad. He sighs tiredly.

“Maybe you _should_ go to Sarah’s tonight,” he suggests. She reaches for his hand and holds onto it.

“Mitchell…please… I said I was sorry.”

“Until the next time you accuse me of something,” he reminds her and she frowns.

“I won’t. I swear.” He sighs raggedly and he feels tears burn behind his eyes.

“I think you need to go, for a little while. I need you to trust me, even just a little bit, for a little while.” He pulls his hand out of hers.

“I do trust you.”

“Then what was that outburst about before? If that’s you trusting me then what happens when you don’t? I need you in my corner Josie, unquestioning and loyal. I need your strength darlin’ and right now it’s just not happening.” He shakes his head and takes a couple of steps away from her.

“Screw this, I’m going to work.” He turns and she watches him leave.

“Mitchell!” she yells after him but his response is the slam of the door.

 


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm...

**Ten:**

He feels wounded. He had a moment of utter clarity while accusing Josie of not trusting him and it nags at him like a toothache. Three times now she’s accused him of something, the first time it was Victoria, then the shirt and now it’s taking Rosemary out to lunch to celebrate her birthday. It’s _Rosemary_ for Christ’s sake, if she knew her then she’d understand that she’s not his type. He realises that he’s been a little unfair to Josie, the blood on his shirt had come from someone that he’d hurt but Joey Campbell was a vampire and he hadn’t killed him. Yeah, he’d kicked him about a bit but as far as he knew, the idiot was still alive. Next time he’ll be quicker and more willing to pay what is owed.

He parks his car behind the club and for a moment he sits there and stares at the steering wheel with a black frown on his face. How can she accuse him of all this shit, can’t she see how much he loves her? Doesn’t she understand that all of this, he’s doing for her? He sighs raggedly and grabs his jacket from the passenger seat and he gets out.

Max sees Mitchell walk into the main ballroom and he sees the expression on his face. He’s pissed off and he pities the fool who’s done that to him. People are tidying up, preparing for the evening and he walks towards the bar, not acknowledging the greetings he’s receiving at all which is unlike him; Mitchell is always polite, always sociable. He watches him pause at the bar before pouring him a beer and pushing the glass towards him. The look Mitchell sends him is sharp and surprised.

“Thanks,” he mutters and roots in his pocket for money to pay him.

“No, it’s okay, it’s on me,” Max replies and Mitchell glances at him again and this time just nods.

Max watches him sup his pint. He debates whether to talk to him and risk getting his head bitten off or just leaving him alone. Mitchell catches him looking at him and his frown is dark and threatening.

“What?” he snaps and Max quickly looks away. He hears the clunk of the glass hitting the bar.

“What’s the matter?” he demands sharply and Max looks at him. Oh what the hell…

“You okay Mitchell?” he asks tentatively and watches him lower his head momentarily to look into his drink.

“Everything is fine,” he replies in a manner that tells Max that he doesn’t want to talk about it. He lifts his head again and looks at him once more.

“Though I’ll give you one piece of advice; never, ever get involved with a human, it just isn’t worth the hassle.” He drains the rest of his pint and leaves, striding across the room as if he owns it.

The staff room is empty though he knows it’ll get busy soon. It’s a medium sized room next to the locker room and it’s furnished with chairs and sofas, there’s a table which has newspapers and magazines scattered across its surface. Mitchell sits on one of the sofas and reaches for a newspaper. He waits for the irritation and the hurt to fade.

* * *

 

He stands in the main ballroom and watches the festivities unfolding around him. The music is loud, business is brisk and the waitresses are run off their feet. Mitchell stands at the back and just observes. He still feels off kilter, annoyed at Josie and at life in general. It eats away at him like a cancer and he sighs in frustration. She’ll be sitting by the phone, waiting for him to call and he’ll be damned before he’ll do that.

“Hey!”

He hears the cheery voice above the music and he turns his head. Then he smells her, that perfume that likes to kick at him.  He feels something rise up inside of him and he almost lets it take over. Instead he blinks and beats it back. He smiles.

“Suzie,” he replies, it’s Suzie who lives upstairs from him and Josie.

“What are you doing here?” she asks. He scans her face. Her make-up is heavier than what he’s used to seeing, her dress is tight and revealing and he can smell perfume and hairspray and something else. His eyes flick up to her wide blue eyes.

He can smell sex. The musky, taunting scent of sex.

“I work here,” he replies. Her eyes widen with surprise.

“I thought you worked at a hospital?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “I did, packed it in and started here.” He shifts slightly.

“Really? What do you do here?” Mitchell looks away, over her shoulder at the other punters milling around and having a good time. He envies them.

“A bit of this and that,” he answers instead. He frowns when he sees the girl come into the ballroom. He glances at Suzie.

“Gotta go. See you later for a drink yeah?” He sees how her eyes light up at the invitation.

“Yeah. Sure,” she replies, pretending to play it cool but he can see that she’s interested. He nods and strides away.

* * *

 

“Hey.” He puts his hand on her shoulder and she spins around in fright, her eyes going wide. Instinctively he lifts both hands, palms outwards in surrender and watches how she smiles. “What are you doing here?”

 She smiles.

“Mr Marshall said I should come, experience the place at night” Rosemary replies.

“I think it’s the first time I’ve seen you here. Are you meeting anyone?” He watches her shake her head and he reaches for her hand.

“Come on, I’m buying you a drink,” he tells her and he leads her to a table.

Max sees Mitchell amongst the crowd and his eyes widen slightly when he sees who he’s with. Shy Rosemary from the office and her eyes are shining behind those glasses that she wears.

Mitchell installs her at a table away from the hubbub. He orders champagne and her eyes go wide.

“Mitchell!” she hisses and he looks at her with twinkling eyes.

“It’s still your birthday isn’t it?” he answers and he smiles “So you’ll have champagne,” he tells her.

* * *

 

Alexander makes his entrance a short while later and he’s surprised to see Mitchell. He’s sitting at a private table and he’s pouring someone a glass of champagne and laughing. He raises an eyebrow when he recognises Linda’s assistant. He turns his head and gives Victoria a quizzical look. Her expression is distinctly sour.

“He took her out for lunch this afternoon, apparently it’s her birthday,” she tells him in a semi disgusted tone.  “The rumour mill also says that he came back here this afternoon in an absolutely foul mood so I’m wondering whether there’s trouble in paradise,” she tacks on and he hears the satisfaction bleed her voice.

“Anything to do with you?” he enquires in a mild tone. Her eyes widen marginally.  He smiles slowly at her obvious discomfort.

“Then you’re not trying hard enough are you?” he tells her in a silky voice.

* * *

 

He’s twirling a very giggly Rosemary around the dance floor when he gets the message that Alexander wants to see him. He remembers Alexander’s tantrum of earlier and he pauses. He looks at Rosemary and he feels regret. He’s been having a genuinely good time with her, she’s managed to make him forget about his problems at home and just laugh. His head still feels on the muzzy side from the champagne. He sighs. He turns to Max and he digs in his pocket and pulls out a wad of notes. He peels a couple off and pushes them into his hand.

“Make sure Rosemary gets home safely, okay?” Max just nods. Rosemary looks at him in askance.

“It’s time for you to go home now or you’ll never get up in time for work tomorrow,” Mitchell tells her and he sees the disappointment brew in her eyes.

“But we were having such a great time,” she sighs and Mitchell’s expression turns sympathetic.

“I know sweetheart but I have to go to work now and Max here will make sure you get a cab home.” He indicates the bar man. Rosemary gives him a brief, suspicious look. Mitchell captures her hand and squeezes it.

“He’s a friend of mine, you can trust him,” he reassures her and she nods.  He passes her off onto Max.

“Make sure she gets a cab and that the driver delivers her to the door you understand?” Max nods briskly and Mitchell watches him wait as she collects her jacket and her bag. He follows her across the ballroom and out. Once she’s out of sight, Mitchell lets out a deep sigh. He then straightens his shoulders and tightens his tie and goes to collect his jacket.

By the time he shrugs it on and buttons it up, he’s in complete control.

* * *

 

He walks up to Alexander’s office.

At this time of night, the outer office is empty and quiet. He sees the flowers in a vase on Rosemary’s desk and the row of pretty cards. He smiles slightly to himself. She’s had a nice birthday and that’s all he wants for her. He pauses in front of his door and closes his eyes briefly. He slowly inhales and opens his eyes again and knocks and waits.

At his summons, Mitchell enters.

Alexander is seated behind his desk and this time its Victoria standing behind him, the huge picture window framing her, the soft light making her look sexual, alluring almost but she leaves him cold. His eyes flick dismissively over her to fix on Alexander’s face.

“Ready?” Mitchell nods just the once. Alexander picks up a small piece of paper and hands it to him.

“Morgan’s address. There’s a car outside to take you there. He needs to be taught a lesson Mitchell, I want you to put the fear of God into him, do I make myself clear?” Alexander’s tone is as hard as granite.

“Perfectly,” Mitchell replies.

“Once you’re done, I want you back here with a report. Don’t disappoint me.” And like that he’s dismissed.

Mitchell makes an anonymous exit from the club and into the back of the gleaming black Daimler that’s waiting for him outside. He sits back in the leather seats and he smooths his hand over the upholstery as the car slides into late evening traffic.

* * *

 

The car slides to a halt outside of what looks like a glorified pool hall. He moves closer to the window and looks up at the building. It’s a far cry from the Moonlight, almost another world but it seems to be doing a brisk trade judging by the amount of people going in and out.

“Park around the back,” he tells the driver.

He slowly gets out of the car and stands on the pavement for a moment. He straightens his suit jacket and makes sure that his shirt cuffs are straight.

News of his arrival travels fast. He walks into the building and he waits. Barely a moment passes before he’s approached by someone far down the vampire food chain, judging by the smell coming off him. Mitchell regards him suspiciously.

“Can I help you with somethin’?” he asks him.

“Arthur Morgan, where is he?” Mitchell demands.

“Well that depends on who wants to see him.” Mitchell slowly turns around to face him more fully. He towers over the vampire by at least three inches. He lets his eyes scorch black for a moment and he sees his eyes widen.

“He’ll want to see me.”

“Oh shit, you’re him aren’t you? The big bad one? Holy Christ there’ve been rumours you might show up…” he babbles.

“Well I’m here now and you have ten seconds to tell me where he is,” Mitchell interrupts impatiently, already annoyed by his rambling. He seems to snap to attention.

“Wait here, I’ll tell him you’re here,” he mumbles and goes to turn and walk away but Mitchell grabs the back of his shirt and hauls him back.

“Better yet, I’ll just follow you,” he whispers and the other vampire nods frantically.

He follows him through a large room that is filled with pool tables, players and the sound of clacking balls and conversation. Mitchell doesn’t look right or left as he follows his new friend to a door at the back. The door is closed. Mitchell watches the vampire lift his hand to knock and grabs his wrist. He shakes his head and indicates with his head that he should get lost.

The vampire gets lost.

* * *

 

Mitchell doesn’t knock on the door; he twists the knob and enters.

He stops in his tracks when he sees the single figure seated behind a desk. He doesn’t seem especially surprised to see Mitchell and he takes his time about getting to his feet.

“I’m not afraid of you,” he tells him. It takes Mitchell momentarily by surprise. He’s used to shock and awe. He’s used to going in with guns blazing, fangs on show and eyes as black as pitch. He’s used to seeing them cowering and begging for mercy. What he isn’t used to is someone telling him that he’s not afraid of him. He watches as Arthur Morgan comes around his desk and walks towards him.

“You should be,” he tells him. Arthur pauses in front of him. He looks at him. He looks to be in his early forties with slicked back black hair and piercing blue eyes.

“Why? Because Alexander Marshall said so? I know about you John, you’re kind of hard to miss within the vampire community.”

“You’re threatening to go public Arthur, that’s not a very sensible thing to do,” Mitchell replies.

“Why shouldn’t they know about us? We’re a sub-culture, we lurk and exist in the shadows, we need to come out into the light and be recognised.”

“And do what? Be praised and exalted by the humans? Get a clue, it’ll never happen, there’ll be fear, there’ll be paranoia and there’ll be lynch mobs out there hunting us with torches and pitchforks, do you really want for that to happen?” Mitchell retaliates.

“It has to be better than all of this secrecy.”

“But that’s how we operate best, behind the scenes. We just want a quiet life Arthur, when someone like you proclaims to all and sundry that he wants to announce to the world that vampires exist, well you rattle a lot of cages. You’ve rattled Mr Marshall and Mr Robinson particularly which is why I’m here.” He notices how Arthur stiffens slightly at the mention of Charlie’s name. He tilts his head very slightly to one side. Just his name strikes bone chilling fear into the sturdiest of hearts. Mitchell pushes his hands into his jacket pockets and he strolls towards Arthur’s desk.

“You really do not want to upset Mr Robinson now do you? We all know that Mr Marshall has the charm but its Mr Robinson that you have to watch, he’s like a rattlesnake that one, I really wouldn’t like to be on the wrong side of him.” His eyes scan the surface of Arthur’s desk. There’s the usual clutter, paperwork, a diary, a phone, pens and pencils, the usual detritus. Then his eyes halt on a cheap gold coloured picture frame. He reaches for it.

“Don’t touch that!” Arthur hisses and Mitchell lifts his eyes to Arthur’s face as he picks up the picture frame.

She’s a pretty girl with long curling brown hair and laughing hazel coloured eyes. She resting her head in her hand and giving the photographer a saucy grin.

“Who is she?” he asks, staring at her face. She looks happy and carefree.

“No one,” Arthur retorts and Mitchell looks at him again and he sees the raw naked pain in his eyes. Mitchell sighs quietly.

“This is really getting us nowhere now is it? Is she human?” Arthur looks away for a moment. Mitchell looks at the photo once more before carefully replacing it on the desk.

“She’s pretty. What’s her name?” Arthur doesn’t answer and Mitchell slowly comes around the corner of the desk.

“Look, I get it, your girlfriend is human, you don’t want to tell me because you think I’ll hunt her down and kill her after I’ve dealt with you and you know, once upon a time that was a very logical thought but I’m not that man any more Arthur. It’s natural to want to protect someone that you care about so deeply.” He walks back towards him. “I can ask someone else but that’ll take longer and all it’ll do is piss me off and after the day I’ve had, you don’t want to piss me off at all.”

“Like I said, I’m not afraid of you,” Arthur tells him. Mitchell makes a show of widening his eyes.

“Oh so _this_ is your personal tragedy? Was it your girl in the photo by any chance? What happened?” He sees the agony cross the other vampire’s face.

“What happened to her?” He gentles his tone and Arthur looks at him.

“She died,” he whispers and Mitchell sees tears well up in his eyes and slip down his pale face.

“And you’re so devastated that by spouting your mouth off, you’ll get the Old Ones all riled up and they’ll send someone to sort you out, is that it? Suicide by vampire?” He pats Arthur’s shoulder.

“Not going to happen friend,” he assures him. He then frowns as Arthur pulls something out of his jacket pocket. Mitchell realises what it is and tries to dodge out of the way but not before he feels something jab along his ribcage. The sharpness of the pain causes his eyes to blacken and his fangs erupt in raw anger. He grabs Arthur’s wrist with one hand, his other hand seizing him around his throat. Rage makes him lift him clear off his feet and he slams him up against the wall.

“Ow, that fucking _hurt_!” he snarls. He can feel blood sliding down his side, making his shirt stick to his skin.

“Or was this your plan? To stake me instead? Was that the message? Because believe me, if you’d succeeded then you would’ve unleashed the wrath of Christ onto your unholy head,” he hisses at him.

“I tried to change her!” Arthur grinds out, his face turning an interestingly deep shade of scarlet as Mitchell tightens his grip around his throat.

“And you left it too late is that it? How many have you changed? How could you fuck it up, how old are you, a century maybe?”

“She was my first, she was going to be my only and I messed it up, it was all my fault,” Arthur chokes and Mitchell lets go. He falls to the floor in an untidy heap, like a puppet with its strings cut.

“What? _Seriously_?” Arthur lifts his head and looks up at him. He nods miserably. Mitchell watches him wipe at his face.

“She died and it was all my fault,” he admits. Mitchell stares at him uncomprehendingly.

“So because you fucked up, you thought you’d announce to the world the existence of actual monsters and demons? Jesus!” He pulls his fingers through his hair and then winces at the pain in his side. It hurts like a bastard.

“How can you be so stupid? You keep your fucking mouth shut do you hear me? Right now everything hurts and it will for a while but it isn’t worth exposing your entire existence because _you_ fucked up and you got your heart broken.” He leans down and grabs the front of his jacket and he hauls him to his feet.

“You don’t want me back on your doorstep because if you say you’re not scared of me now, I guarantee you will piss your pants if you see me again.” He pushes him so that his back hits the office wall with an audible thud.

He gets back into the rear of the Daimler and winces at the pain in his side. He peels back his jacket and sees the large red patch of blood staining the shirt. He curses, another shirt ruined. He sighs and slowly shakes his head.

* * *

 

He gets back to the club and the loud music hits him like a wave. He knows Alexander is still here and will want to see him but he wants to change his shirt first. He heads into the locker room and opens his locker. He shrugs off the jacket and hangs it up. He pulls off his tie and unbuttons the shirt. He peels it free and scowls at the torn red patch on his vest. He drops the shirt on the floor and the vest follows. He looks down at his side and sees the ugly bloody gash. It’s already beginning to heal but Jesus it hurts. He snags a towel from the bottom of his locker and walks to the sink. He soaks it in water and presses it against the wound, wincing and cursing at the same time as he feels it begin to burn.

“What the hell happened to you?”

He flinches when he hears Victoria’s bemused tone and the scowl he sends her way is dark.

“Morgan put up a bit of a fight,” he replies and presses the towel to the wound again, feeling the coldness penetrate his already chill skin. He turns and heads back to his locker and takes down a clean shirt. He shrugs it on and quickly buttons it up.

“And how is Arthur Morgan?” she asks him. He turns his head and watches her walk towards him. She puts her hand on his chest and he stops buttoning. She takes another step towards him and he feels her hand slip beneath the cotton and slide across his stomach.

“What do you want?” he demands. Her eyes drop downwards and then up again. He’s no fool, he sees her calculation.

“Do you really have to ask?” She stands on tiptoe and presses a kiss on his mouth. For a second his mind turns blank and he thinks about responding, just forgetting and going for it but that’s what Victoria wants, has made it blatantly obvious that she wants him.

“Hey. Enough,” he hisses and pushes her back. Her stagger backwards is ungraceful.

“What is wrong with you?” she hisses. He glares at her.

“I’m not interested, get the fucking message and leave me alone,” he snarls at her.

“I can make things very difficult for you with Alexander,” she threatens. He stares at her, weighing up her challenge.

“Go ahead, see if I care,” he replies eventually and he watches her leave.


	11. Chapter Eleven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The storm approaches...

**Eleven:**

He slowly climbs the stairs, back to Alexander’s office. His side still pains him but the ache isn’t as acute. He’s tired and he just wants to sleep but he doesn’t know whether he’s ready to go back to the flat yet.

He thinks about Arthur Morgan. His only mistake was to lose the love of his life and he reacted through pain and tearing grief. He could understand that but he would never, could never betray his kind.

It’s almost a repeat of earlier and Mitchell pauses by Alexander’s desk and waits for the beration that he’s been kept waiting again.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here immediately…” he begins but Alexander waves his halting apology away.

“I heard Arthur put up a bit of a fight?” he enquires and Mitchell flicks a look Victoria’s way. She looks away. Mitchell turns his head and looks at Charlie. He’s in copper mode with the ugly shapeless suit, grubby overcoat and nasty glasses. He looks so unassuming but Mitchell recognises the cunning in those eyes and there’s a sharp look in them as he regards Mitchell.

“He did but I made him see sense,” he looks back at Alexander. He sees a similar tension in his expression that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“You _made_ him see sense? How did you achieve that exactly?” Alexander enquires calmly.

“I talked to him. He’s grief stricken, irrational,” Mitchell replies.

“I know that, I told you that. I wanted you to deal with it,” Alexander retaliates.

Mitchell frowns. “And I just told you that I did, he won’t be causing you any trouble,” he informs him. He watches how he looks at Charlie. Something is wrong, he just can’t quite put his finger on it.

“I hope for your sake that he’s a pile of dust in that shit hole he calls an office at the pool hall,” Alexander snarls. Mitchell’s eyes widen very briefly.

“If my sole intention was to stake him without an explanation then you sent the wrong person,” he defends. He watches Alexander storm around his desk and stand in front of him.

“He threatened our existence Mitchell by that very definition he should’ve been eradicated!” he hisses.

“He was mistaken, he sends his apologies.”

He watches how Alexander turns his back for a moment and pulls a hand through thick blonde curls. He spins around and grabs Mitchell by his throat and he’s being propelled backwards. His back hits the wall with frightening speed; his head connects painfully to concrete with enough force to make him see stars and for his vision to grey briefly at the corners. Alexander glares at him with deathly black eyes.

“I didn’t want his _apologies_ you fucking idiot, I wanted his death! I wanted his band of followers to know that they will do _nothing_ to jeopardise our existence, absolutely nothing and that there’ll be severe consequences if they do. I thought you were the man for the task Mitchell, I thought that you were vicious enough to make me proud.” His hand tightens around Mitchell’s throat and the younger vampire struggles. His eyes scorch black as his temper rises with the indignation. He pushes at Alexander.

“I’m tired of pretending Mitchell, you’re a _vampire_ , a vampire of legend and you disappointed me, you _really_ disappointed me tonight. I’ve had enough of your wanting to be human shit, it’ll never happen, you’ll never succeed.” His eyes return to their normal shade and he lets go of him. Mitchell snarls and lunges.

“ _Mitchell_!” Charlie snaps and Mitchell freezes, breathing heavily. He watches Alexander return to his desk.

“Get out of here, I don’t want to see you,” he dismisses with a flick of a hand. Mitchell glances briefly at Charlie who just nods. The look Mitchell sends Alexander is baleful as he turns and storms out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

 

He storms down the stairs and feels the anger building. Alexander knows he doesn’t kill; he can’t descend into that madness again.

“Hey again.”

 He pauses when he hears her voice and he closes his eyes. He can’t really be bothered tonight, he just wants to go somewhere and be by himself for a little bit. He tenses when he feels her hand on his upper arm and he turns his head and he looks at her.

“Suzie. Hey,” he replies.

“Want to go for that drink now?”

He looks at her. _  
_

“I thought you’d forgotten,” he answers but she shakes her head and he can’t help but be a little cynical. Of course she hasn’t forgotten. He remembers how she’s checked him out in the corridor of their building, the flirtatious remarks, the teasing and the touching, like now. He takes a breath and he looks back up the stairs. Charlie has appeared and he’s watching him with interest. A little smile plays around his mouth and he thinks  _what the hell, why not?_

“Sure. Why not, but somewhere else yeah?” Suzie nods eagerly.

“Come on then, I’ll let you suggest somewhere.” He holds out a hand and sliding another glance at Charlie, they leave.

Charlie goes down the stairs and watches them depart. Could it really have been as easy as that, to play to Mitchell’s vampiric vanity? He’s seen how Victoria has flirted with Mitchell, he’s seen how other women have reacted to him and he’s acted like they were invisible.

* * *

 

The pub is small but doing a brisk busy trade. Mitchell buys her a vodka and tonic and slips into the seat opposite and takes a mouthful of his own beer.

“I haven’t seen you at the flat for a bit,” he comments.

“That’s because I moved out. Got the chance of a flat of my own nearer to work,” she confides.

“And left poor Lisa by herself, how could you?” he chides with a twinkle in his eye and he watches how she goes pink and giggles, ah the girl blushes, now _there_ was a novelty.

“Nothing against her but she could be boring,” Suzie tells him.

“Ah no she wasn’t, she was just shy,” he replies and Suzie shrugs. Mitchell watches her. Her heart is fluttering like a caged bird in her chest, accompanied by the whooshing of her blood through her veins.  Lisa was much more cautious; she seemed to regard him with a modicum of suspicion that made him feel slightly uneasy. Oh she’d smile and she’d flirt too but only if Suzie was around. He watches her drain her glass and he reaches for it as he gets to his feet.

“Let me get you another?”

* * *

 

He has no idea what she’s talking about but the sound of her pulse hammering at the base of her throat is almost completely distracting. He can see it bumping away there and he feels his mouth begin to water at the prospect of tasting what’s beneath. He takes a deep breath and stumbles to his feet.

“I need to…” He indicates the men’s toilets and she nods.

He almost staggers through the crowds of people milling around. He bursts through the door and into a cubicle and he slams the door shut and leans against it, pressing his forehead against the cold painted wood. He’s shaking. He lifts his hands and presses them against the door and curls them into tight fists. After a moment he lifts his head and stares blindly ahead. He flushes the loo and leaves.

She’s waiting for him. He pauses briefly when he sees her there. She takes a step towards him and she stands on tiptoes and kisses him.

For a brief moment he freezes. Her perfume surrounds him and slowly, inch by inch it sinks its tiny sharp little hooks into him and then hauls him under. He grabs her by her upper arms and pushes her through a door.

They’re out in an alley behind the pub and the only company are rows and rows of battered rubbish bins. Suzie grabs at him, her hands touching, grasping, wanting.

He feels hunger rise viciously, sharply inside of him and he feels her hands go for his belt buckle. She’s pushing him up against the rough brick wall that’s all of a sudden grinding into his spine. It’s rough and it scrapes but he doesn’t really feel it. She drops down on her knees in front of him, and he feels his eyes roll up into the back of his head when he feels the warmth of her mouth on him. Oh Christ. His hands go down, his fingers slide into her hair and he tightens his grip. Jesus God… his breath wheezes out of his lungs and after a moment or two, he hauls her up and he turns her around and he pushes her back, pushing her up against the wall this time. Her eyes widen as her back makes contact and it’s her spine being ground by the rough brick work. He doesn’t wait for an invitation as his hands slide up to her thighs, dragging the tiny little skirt up around her waist. He’s aware of her tensing up slightly but the roar inside of his skull is way too loud. Lust crashes and swamps him. He needs… Christ he needs this. He buries his face in the curve of her neck and shoulder and he just inhales. She’s warmth; he can hear her pulse crashing so close to his ear accompanied by that irresistible rush of blood. It’s hypnotic. He thrusts, he pushes and he takes what he wants.

Jesus, oh God Jesus…he won’t think about her, not now, he can’t. He hears her cry out, feels the strength of her orgasm and it rips through him, suddenly free, his eyes scorch, fangs erupt and it overpowers him. Soft skin, the scent of her just drags him under and it erupts.

Long suppressed emotions rage through him as he feeds, he feels her hot blood course down his throat, satisfying, satiating. He feels it flow into him, over him and through him. Finally he’s had enough and he releases her. She falls to the ground, she’s dead, and he knows that, he’d heard her heart slow and eventually stop. He tingles from the energy of her blood. His legs give and he crashes down beside her and he covers his head with his arms as self-loathing and guilt swiftly follow.

* * *

 

“Mitchell…well I must admit, it took you long enough,” a voice interrupts and his head snaps up.

Charlie Robinson is standing over him.

There’s a satisfied smirk on his face. Mitchell looks down and then briefly to the side and he looks at Suzie. He quickly looks away again.

“Oh don’t worry about her, we’ll take care of that,” Charlie tells her. Mitchell looks up at him. He holds out a hand and after a moment’s hesitation, Mitchell reaches for it and Charlie hauls him to his feet.

“You might want to sort yourself out my boy,” he comments with a nod towards his state of undress and befuddled slightly Mitchell turns and does just that. Charlie watches him, sees how stiff his movements are and he realises that he must be hating himself about now. He’s slid off the wagon in spectacular style. He should be rubbing his hands with glee but right now he just feels kind of sorry for him. He watches him turn around. He has her blood smeared over the bottom half of his face, staining the front of his shirt. He watches how he tries to wipe it away but there’s so much of it. He lifts his head and looks at Charlie.

“It’s alright. Hungry?” he enquires in a soothing voice. Mitchell pauses and then nods, a slight, reluctant mood and Charlie puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it gently.

“Then let’s get you someone to eat,” he tells him and leads him out of the alley. He sees Mitchell turn his head and look back.

“Don’t. I said I’ll sort it out, don’t worry about that,” he tells him and Mitchell looks away.

* * *

 

Alexander is pacing his office when Charlie makes his reappearance. He spins around when he sees him.

“Well?” he demands.

Charlie slowly smiles. “Mission accomplished,” he tells him.

“Really?”

Charlie gives a little chuckle as he nods.

“Really. I found him in the back alley of some pub with a blonde tart he picked up here. You pushed those buttons Alex and you pushed them hard but I think you have yourself a very capable attack dog,” he informs him. Alexander grins with pure delight.

“Excellent! Where is he?”

“He’s taking a shower at the moment, he was soaked in her blood so he was in a bit of a state initially but you might want to keep out of his way for a while, he’s a bit…” He twirls a finger beside his temple. “Been a little while since he last indulged you see.”

“How long?”

“Well he’s been with his human girlfriend for a year so you do the sums.”

Alexander rolls his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, it must’ve been love,” he mutters.

* * *

 

He stands beneath the shower head and lets the water pound down on him. He’s buzzing, absolutely flying. He’s missed this, this incredible feeling that’s flowing through him. He watches as the blood twirls and swirls down the plughole and he smiles to himself. Who knew that there were showers in a place like this but given who the owner is, who his second in command is, it makes a weird kind of sense. He chuckles as he switches the shower off and gets out of the cubicle. There are towels on a silver rail for him, Charlie has been sure to tell him that those towels are just for him and he picks one up. It’s thick and soft beneath his fingertips and he wraps it around his waist. Showers are great, in and out quick as you like, no waiting for a tub to fill, hoping the water is at least hot enough for a dip. In and out in a moment. He chuckles again and reaches for another towel and rubs at his wet hair.

He emerges from the shower room and he sees her standing beside his locker. He pauses and then rolls his eyes.

“Jesus fucking Christ, can’t you get the bloody message?” he announces. He sees the smile that was on her face drop. Mitchell sighs and he goes to his locker, ignoring her.

“How do you feel?” she asks him and he turns his head and glares at her.

“How do you want me to feel Victoria?” he retorts and he yanks his locker door open and he takes out another clean shirt and suit out. He’ll need to get another suit in here; he’s gone through his supply here in just a single day. His train of thought is interrupted by her hand on his upper arm.

“If you want to lose that hand, keep doing what you’re doing sweetheart,” he snarls at her. She doesn’t let go and he watches that smile slowly reappear. Her hand massages the muscle there. He watches her. Then he turns and that hand goes towards his chest. He grabs it.

“You want some of me?” he hisses at her and he turns her and pushes her roughly up against the locker. He grabs hold of her other hand and presses her in place. “Well come on darlin’, show me what you got.” He sees her frown, struggle slightly but it’s useless, Mitchell has just come off a binge and as a result he’s feeling the effects. He pushes up against her. She frowns for the briefest of seconds before her eyes flash black and she lunges at him. He takes a step back and pins her to the locker and he chuckles.

“You’d like that now wouldn’t you? You’d like a piece of me. You hate it that I’m not interested in you and even now you don’t do anything for me, you can get down on your knees for me and you still won’t get the reaction that you’re hoping for. Want me to show you?” His eyes widen as he pushes his face close to hers. She bares her fangs, her eyes still obsidian.

“Let me go,” she hisses and he grins.

“Why should I? This is so much _fun_ don’t you think? You swan around this place because you think your status as Alexander’s chief whore sets you apart from the others but newsflash darlin’, it doesn’t. He doesn’t care enough what you do or who you fuck, he never has.” His voice lowers to a whisper. “I wouldn’t touch you with someone else’s barge pole sweetheart but it’s been fucking _hysterical_  watching you try to get my attention.” He grins insolently at her and then lets go of her wrists. She flies at him, all teeth and nails. He’s ready for her attack and he catches her, avoiding both and he spins her around so that her back is to him. He wraps his arms around her mid-section and he lifts her. She’s screaming by the time he gets to the door. He opens it, still holding onto her and he flings her out into the lobby, full of clubbers and employees and she lands on the carpeted floor in an undignified heap. He slams the door shut and then leans against it, breathing heavily.

He grins and then laughs, feeling the euphoria bubble through his entire system. He straightens up and goes back to his locker.

 


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaos ensues and Mitchell's carefully constructed life begins to unravel.

**Twelve:**

He didn’t come home again last night. It’s the first thought in her head when she opens her eyes and sees that she’s alone in their bed. She turns her head and looks at his pillow. He hasn’t been here; he hasn’t been back. She refuses to panic or to even worry; he’d left in a mood after they’d fought so she’s not going to be the one to look for him, to beg for his forgiveness.

She gets ready for her day. It’s Sunday and under normal circumstances they spend it together, recovering from Saturday night induced hangovers and shopping trips. For all that he works on a Saturday night, Sunday is their day. It used to be one of peace and quiet, of no work, no feeling of urgency that they had to be somewhere by a certain time. There was peace and calmness and just the two of them. Once upon a time that had been enough. She spent yesterday in the flat, waiting by the phone, hoping he’d call and be full of abject apologies. She picked up the phone more than once with the same idea in mind but it’s Saturday, would there be anyone there to answer? So she stayed by the phone and waited.

She’s worried though and she has contemplated going to the club and seeing if he’s there. She doesn’t want to go down the route of the needy girlfriend but Mitchell is different. Sheer pride prevents her; she reminds herself- he’s the one who stormed off in a temper.

Sunday drifts past in a haze of nervous silent unease. She’s seriously worried now and again she contemplates going to the Moonlight. Maybe Alexander knows where he is? Maybe he’s sleeping on a friend’s sofa? She doesn’t want to think of what else he could be up to and that prospect is far too horrifying for her mind to comprehend fully.

She’s tense come Monday morning. She doesn’t know how much more of his silence she can take, she feels like she’s the one being punished.

* * *

 

He slowly opens his eyes and stares at the white painted ceiling. His head is pounding and he frowns against it. He slowly realises that he has no clue where he is. Slowly he sits up and he looks around. He looks down. His feet and legs are bare, his shirt is halfway unbuttoned and his tie is loose around his neck. There are empty bottles everywhere, scattered across every surface like bowling pins. He turns his head and sees the naked girl beside him and he sighs and wipes his face with his hands and smells the blood on them. He stills and looks at them. He turns his head and looks at his companion again. It’s then that he sees the scarlet blood staining the white sheets. There’s a brief flare of panic. There’s a rap on the door and his eyes widen. He slides off the bed and it’s then he sees the other girl lying on the floor, similarly ripped open and drained.

“Mitchell, you in there?” Relief flows through him at the sound of Charlie’s voice. He goes to the door and opens it a crack. He’s standing there in his suit and overcoat and he sees his reflection in his glasses. He’s covered in blood.

“Come on, let me in there’s a good lad,” he whispers and Mitchell steps back and Charlie slides in. His eyes widen slightly when he sees the state of the room.

“Good God Mitchell, when you fall you do so with some considerable style. I’d been starting to doubt those stories I’d heard about you.” He glances at him and grins. Mitchell doesn’t smile back.

“Who are they?” he enquires.

Mitchell shrugs. “I have no idea,” he confesses.

“Bit of a lost weekend then I take it, don’t worry, we all have them.” He slaps him between his shoulder blades.

“Go and get yourself cleaned up, I’ll deal with this.” Mitchell looks at him and frowns.

“You do that a lot for me,” he mutters.

“It’s what I do. I’m the best for a reason Mitchell; no one will ever know you were here or that this…happened. Go on.” He indicates the bathroom and watches him shuffle towards it, go through the door and close it behind him. Charlie sighs quietly and heads for the phone.

* * *

 

When he emerges from the bathroom, the only occupant of the room is Charlie, the girls are gone, the room is pristine, the bottles have disappeared and there is no evidence of anything untoward ever happening here. Charlie stands up from his seat at the bottom of the bed and hands Mitchell his jacket and watches him slide it on and then tighten his tie. He’s clean in the sense that he’s washed and brushed up but Charlie sees the darkened pupils, how they’re almost black in colour. He’s still buzzing from the blood lust and from the carnage his crew has just cleared up; he’ll be buzzing for quite some time.

“We need to get back to the club, my car is outside,” he tells him as they leave the hotel room.

“How did you know I was here?” Mitchell asks him.

“There’s a network in place here Mitchell, we’ve always known where you are at any given time since you first set foot in my city, kind of like jungle drums but more…sophisticated,” Charlie explains as they emerge into the sunshine. Mitchell squints against it and follows Charlie to his car. His stomach is beginning to churn and cramp a bit. He slides into the passenger seat of the Jag. Charlie glances at him as he does like wise.

“Need a hit?”

“Yeah, just to take the edge off a bit,” Mitchell responds quietly. Charlie starts the engine.

“Not a problem,” he informs him. Mitchell sinks down in his seat, folds his arms and closes his eyes.

* * *

 

He doesn’t speak during the journey back and Charlie doesn’t engage him in conversation. Alexander left instructions to track Mitchell down and to deliver him back at the club. Charlie has heard about the ruckus Mitchell created at the club; of how completely he humiliated Victoria. He bites back a smile, the slut had it coming and he’s secretly pleased that Mitchell was the one to give it to her.

“Where are we going?” Mitchell asks.

“Back to the club, Alexander wants to see you.” He sees Mitchell slide him a wary sideways look.

“I think I’d better just go home,” he comments.

“After you’ve spoken to Alexander then I’ll drop you off myself,” he replies.

“My car is at the club, I can get myself home,” he mumbles and turns his head to look out of the passenger window. Charlie sighs quietly.

“Okay, if you insist but Alexander still needs to talk to you,” he tells him. Mitchell casts him a distinctly disinterested glance but doesn’t say anymore.

His head is pounding as he enters the club. He walks with Charlie up to his office. Linda and Rosemary are both at their desks. He catches sight of the flowers on Rosemary’s desk, they’re starting to wilt a little bit but her smile is bright. It’s all he can do to respond. He sees how quickly her eyes lose their sparkle and he turns his head and keeps his eyes on the floor. He doesn’t want to feel anything else, there’s so much clawing and fighting going on inside of him and he doesn’t want to add her to it.

He follows Charlie into Alexander’s office.

* * *

 

Alexander is standing behind his desk and he’s pouring coffee into four squat little cups.

“Ah, the prodigal returns!” he announces. Mitchell doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even smile. He watches Alexander come around the corner of his desk, cradling a coffee cup in his hand.

“Here. You look like you could use this.” He hands him the cup and he takes it.

“Have a seat,” he tells him as he goes back behind his desk and slowly Mitchell lowers himself into one of the chairs. He takes a tentative sip of his drink and winces; it’s hot and very strong. He lowers it and watches both Charlie and Simeon accept their cups and do likewise.

“You look like you’ve had a very good night on the tiles Mitchell,” Alexander announces and Mitchell flicks him a look.

“It’s just as well we have someone like Charlie on our side,” he continues.

“Aren’t you going to drink your coffee?” Mitchell looks down at it and his stomach churns. He feels like he wants to throw up and it has nothing to do with what happened last night. He leans forward and places the cup on the corner of Alexander’s desk.

“I guess I’m more the type for tea,” he mutters and sits back, wrapping his arms around his waist and frowning. Alexander frowns quizzically at Charlie who subtly shrugs.

“Well I suppose the way I make coffee isn’t to everyone’s taste. You look all in my friend, how about I give you your keys and let you get settled in?” Mitchell’s head snaps up.

“My keys? What are you talking about?”

“To your new place,” Alexander replies as if explaining things to a particularly slow child.

“I already have a place to live,” he replies quietly. He looks to Simeon and Charlie who are both observing him. Alexander smiles.

“Which you haven’t gone back to for three days Mitchell, do you think Josie will take you back after this?”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

Alexander rolls his eyes.

“You slipped Mitchell and you slipped in spectacular form, she’ll know, women _always_ know when you’ve been up to no good.” He folds his arms and regards Mitchell.

“We understand because it’s your base nature and hey, why fight against it? But will Josie understand? I don’t think so, you tried the normal life and it didn’t work for you at all so welcome back.” He unfolds his arms and spreads them out.

“We’ll get you settled in, I think you’ll like where we’re putting you, it has all the mod cons and it’s a nice, quiet neighbourhood, quite exclusive really. Anyway…” His eyes light up and he smiles again. “You can have the next couple of days off, get used to your new digs, before getting you to work and we have such _plans_ for you Mitchell…” He sounds almost excited.

“Wait a minute…just wait one bloody minute now,” Mitchell interrupts, lurching to his feet. Alexander pauses and regards him.

“You’re not listening to me…I’m not moving anywhere…I _have_ a home, with Josie.”

“And you’re not listening to us Mitchell…” Mitchell lifts a hand and shakes his head.

“No…just…no. I’ll talk to her…she’ll understand.” He sways dizzily on his feet.

“She isn’t one of us, she won’t understand, she won’t _ever_ understand, you need to be with us, we’re your family now.” Alexander approaches him and slides an arm across his shoulders. Angrily Mitchell shrugs it off and he glares at him.

“You don’t know Josie,” he snarls at him.

* * *

 

“How are things at home?” Josie lifts her head suddenly when she hears Sarah’s sympathetic question. She sighs raggedly.

“Still…”

“Did you find out who the redhead was?”

Josie shrugs. “He said she was the office assistant and that it was her birthday.” She sees how Sarah rolls her eyes.

“And he takes her out for a meal?”

“It makes sense; it’s something that he’d do. He’s thoughtful like that.”

“So you believe him?”

“He’s never lied to me before Sarah, I guess I just need to remember that more often.” Her words grow faint as she feels a pressure in her chest.

“Josie?” Sarah’s voice rises with alarm as Josie gets to her feet. She gulps in a lungful of air and heads off to the women’s toilets.

She dives into a cubicle and sits on the toilet seat. She bends over at the waist and the tears begin to flow.

“Josie?” She hears Sarah’s concerned voice and she takes another gulping deep breath. She wipes at her eyes.

“Where are you?” she asks.

“I’m okay,” she calls out but her voice is shaky. She sits back as the cubicle door slowly opens. Sarah stands there and regards her.

“What’s going on?” she asks in a calm voice. For a moment Josie can’t speak. She looks down at her hands and she sees the wedding ring that she wears on her right hand. She twists it round and round her finger. She sighs damply.

“After we saw… _them_ in the restaurant on Friday…we had a fight…and I haven’t seen him since,” she admits and Sarah’s eyes widen.

“He’s been gone all weekend?”

 Josie just nods. “He’s never done this before,” she admits. Sarah squeezes into the cubicle and closes the door behind her.

“Do you want to go home? I could clear it with the partners?” Josie shakes her head.

“No. I’ll just spend the time hanging around and waiting for the phone to ring. No, at least here I’ll be busy. Mitchell will come back when he’s ready to and not before.”

“He’s probably at a friend’s house, cooling down. He loves you, just give him some time and a little bit of space.” Josie looks up at her and just nods. She’s afraid of what time and space will do to him but of course she can’t tell her that.

“Will you be okay?” she asks and Josie nods.

“I’ll cover for you for a little while,” Sarah tells her and then opens the cubicle door. She watches her follow and the friends look at each other.

“Everything will be fine,” she tells her and then hugs her. As she draws back she smiles and points to her eyes.

“You might need to sort your mascara out,” she tells her and then leaves her alone.

Josie turns and faces her reflection in the mirror and gives a watery laugh at the sooty traces beneath both eyes. She rescues a piece of toilet roll from the cubicle and as she turns, she sees Sarah reappear with her handbag. She smiles her thanks.

Five minutes later, her make-up is repaired and she feels more composed. No one could guess at the turmoil going through her mind.

* * *

 

“Mitchell…you need to calm down, you’re hungry and you need to feed.” Charlie comes to his other side and he keeps his tone low, soothing. Mitchell glares at him.

“I need…to see Josie…I _need_ to go home,” he replies, his voice shaking.

“What you’re feeling is perfectly natural, you’re feeling guilty because you think you’ve let people down, well you haven’t. We’ll get you someone to eat and afterwards everything will feel a little less…crazy,” Charlie tells him. He looks at Alexander and gently shakes his head. Mitchell straightens. He looks at Alexander.

“I…appreciate the…offer but I meant what I said, I’m staying with Josie,” he tells him. Alexander sighs.

“Okay…have it your way.” He looks at Charlie and he frowns. The three of them watch Mitchell leave. Once they hear the outer office door close, Charlie looks at Alexander.

“You need to give him time Alex, we would’ve had him for sure if you hadn’t had to mention the flat.”

Alexander shrugs. “I was striking while the iron was hot!” he defends.

“You need to get him away from his human girlfriend,” Simeon interjects and both Charlie and Alexander look at him.

“Then we take her out of the picture,” Alexander tells him and Simeon shakes his head.

“He’ll come after you if you do that. You may be old Alex but you go after her and he’ll kill you, he won’t be thinking about age or respect or anything like that,” Charlie warns him.  Alexander sighs.

“He won’t get near enough.”

“Don’t underestimate his feelings for her. He was strong enough to walk away from Herrick for her. He dealt with Victoria in a very callous, public manner, he’s not stupid, if you harm Josie he’ll get to you even if it means sacrificing himself.”

Alexander regards him. “You seem to have gotten the measure of him.”

“He has such potential; he could be something truly…wonderful with the right kind of handling. With the right kind of training, he could be someone who would make Herrick quake in his boots,” he smiles reminiscently. Then his gaze sharpens on his friend and sire.

“Leave him be, he’ll come back,” he informs him and then he looks at his watch.

“I need to get back to work. See you gentlemen later,” he announces and strides out after Mitchell.

* * *

 

Mitchell pauses at the top of the stairs and massages his temples. His head is pounding; everything seems to be like a kaleidoscope and spinning out of control. He feels edgy and panicky and he just wants to run.

“Mitchell?” He hears her soft concerned voice and he freezes. He makes himself open his eyes and look at her. Rosemary is climbing up the stairs and she’s staring at him in a concerned way.

“Hey Rosemary,” he responds, trying to inject some normality in his voice but it comes out shaky and useless. He closes his eyes again.

“Hey…” Her tone is strangely soothing, her hand gently touches his upper arm and his eyes open again.

“You look awful, are you okay?” He looks at her, how she tilts her head to the side, her eyes are full of concern

“Yeah…yeah I’ll be okay…” he stammers.

“Look, let me drop these files off. Do you want to get a cup of tea and maybe…talk?” she suggests. He frowns mildly and sees how she flushes.

“It’s just…you look like you could use a…friend,” she suggests. He exhales loudly and looks at her again, sees beyond the terribly shy young lady he’s kind of taken under his wing. Then he nods.

“Yeah…you know I’d like that,” he answers honestly and she smiles softly.

“Stay here and…don’t move,” she tells him and he watches her go to the office.

He’s edgy and uptight but he waits for her to return and presently she does.

“Don’t you have work that needs to be done?” he asks as she rejoins him. His voice is tense.

“I’m allowed a coffee break and I’m taking it. Linda knows where I am if she needs me,” she answers quietly. She touches his arm again.

They go downstairs to the staff coffee room.

She makes him tea, adding in sugar and stirring it. She hands the cup to him, watching how he folds his hands around it. He lifts it to his lips and takes a drink. He lifts his eyes and watches her lower herself down onto the chair beside him. The staff room is empty and she’s grateful for the peace and quiet.

“Thanks for this,” Mitchell mutters, lifting his cup slightly and Rosemary doesn’t fail to notice how he clings to it. It’s almost desperate.

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” she asks in her quiet voice and he looks at her. She doesn’t know what he is, how can he explain to her the crushing feelings of guilt doing the rounds inside of his head right now?  Instead he lifts the cup for another drink, feeling the sweetness of the sugar slam into already degraded taste buds.

“Did you have a fight with your girlfriend?” she asks. Her green eyes are sympathy filled and he frowns at her. He sees how she then seems to quail at his change of expression and he needs to remember that she’s not like anyone else in this place; she’s an honest to God innocent.

“People have been talking Mitchell…and we heard about…Victoria…” Her voice lowers to a whisper. Mitchell lowers his cup and he sighs raggedly. His head is still spinning, his stomach is aching and cramping, he’s forgotten about that, about the gnawing constant aching between feeding.

“Yeah…we did…” he confesses. She doesn’t need to know that she was the reason behind the conflict. She’s sweet, lovely. He stares at her and just like that, he hears the pounding of her pulse. He blinks and shakes his head slightly but he still hears it.

“What’s wrong? Do you have a headache?” she asks and he blinks again and forces himself to focus on her face. He frowns.

“Umm…yeah…” he answers. It’s true, he does, and it’s like the worst kind of hangover. He watches her get to her feet.

“I can help with that,” she tells him and he sees her open a cupboard door. It’s the one that holds cups, coffee jars and tea caddies and he watches her take a small green metal box and open it. She takes something out. Presently she returns and there are two little white tablets in the palm of her hand. He regards them suspiciously.

“Painkillers.” She tips them into his hand and sits back down as he tosses them back with a mouthful of sweet tea.

“Thanks,” he mutters. She regards him. He looks so tired, so uptight.

“What was your fight about?” she asks him and his eyes flash from her face to the floor.

“Nothing important, it was just a stupid disagreement but I haven’t been back home since it happened on Friday.”

“And you don’t know what you’re going back to, or if she’ll take you back?” He shrugs. She shuffles forward in her seat and she touches the back of one hand.

“If you love her then you’ll make it right, you’ll do whatever you have to, to make it right,” she tells him in a low voice. She offers him a tentative smile as his eyes go to her face.

“I’ve done something so bad Rosemary, she might not forgive me,” he whispers almost urgently and she frowns.

“What could you do that would make her not forgive you Mitchell? You’re a kind, honourable man.” She moves her hand away as he flinches.

“No I’m not. I’m your worst nightmare Rosemary and if you had any sense, you’d stay well away from me.” He sees her confusion. He puts his cup on the small coffee table beside his chair. He leans forwards and his expression changes, becomes urgent.

“You need to get away from this place Rosemary before it poisons you, before it drags you down so far that you can’t get out. Change your job, move back to Brighton, just leave, because it’ll be the best thing that you ever did,” he hisses at her and he sees her eyes widen with alarm. She watches him get to his feet. He seems almost agitated. She follows suit.

“Mitchell? What’s going on?” she whispers. He stares into her eyes and he reaches for her, he pulls her into his arms and he hugs her tightly. He can hear her heart fluttering wildly and her pulse is beating a similar tattoo. He inhales the scent of her and he can feel _him_  stir inside of him. He swallows and fights him back down. He draws her back and looks at her.

“Promise me?” She nods jerkily. He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  He bends down and presses a kiss on her cheek. Then he’s gone, striding away, leaving her in his wake.

Charlie hears the door knob rattle and hastily backs away, dipping into the doorway next to the staffroom. It all feels a little bit cloak and dagger but he presses himself back as Mitchell strides away. He watches him leave and then a moment later the staffroom door opens again and he sees Linda’s mousy little assistant emerge and head for the stairs, no doubt returning to the office.

He steps out and looks up and he wonders.  


 


	13. Chapter Thirteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember that phrase, closing the stable door after the horse has bolted? That.

**Thirteen:**

His hands are shaking and he struggles to get the key into the lock.

“Josie?” he calls out as he closes the door behind him. His head is roaring. For a moment he leans against the wood and presses his hand against his temple. He screws his eyes closed. He can hear the heartbeats, pulses fluttering, he can hear them all. He forces his eyes open and he straightens up. He gulps in a lungful of air.

“Josie?” he asks again and he walks into the living room. It’s empty. The room is as neat as a pin, not a thing out of place. For a moment he’s bewildered. He looks at his watch, it’s early afternoon. It’s Monday, she’ll be at work. He contemplates going to the office to see her but stops. It’s too risky. Here he’s safe and she’ll be home soon.

He runs the bath until it’s almost full and strips off. He leaves his clothes in a heap on the floor as he climbs into the bath and leans back. He thinks of the shower back at the club, maybe they should think about getting one installed? He remembers watching blood gurgle down the drain. He closes his eyes and he can smell that perfume again. It fills his head along with the sound of her ragged breathing. What was her name again? He scours his head for it. His eyes open suddenly as it comes to him, Suzie. She used to live upstairs. He wonders whether Charlie has dealt with it as he promised and how. He swallows and closes his eyes again. He’s sorry, he so very sorry but it was a moment of weakness, the result of a childish tantrum, of finally just letting go of control and running with it, raging with it. He slides underneath the water.

* * *

 

Her heart does a traitorous leap when she sees his car parked where it usually is. It means that he’s back home or alternatively it could mean that he’s brought the car back and has gone again. Her mouth goes dry as butterflies start up in the pit of her stomach.

She lets herself into the flat. Her heart is pounding and her palms are damp. She doesn’t know what to expect. Slowly she goes inside.

He’s sitting on the sofa, sitting on the edge of the seat and he’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt. His hair is drying in damp curls just past his ears. He’s paler than normal and she can see that he’s tense, she can tell by the set of his shoulders and the frown on his face. His hands are clasped together against his chin as if he’s praying. She puts her keys down and his eyes snap up to her face.

For a moment they just stare at each other.

Slowly Mitchell rises to his feet.

“Hey,” he murmurs.

“Hey,” Josie echoes her voice barely above a whisper. The tension is palpable and he looks away.

“Where have you been?” she asks him. He looks back at her for a brief second before looking away again.

“Here and there,” he answers in a tight voice.

“And you’ve been…okay?” Her tone turns tentative and his frown deepens. He nods.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers. She takes several steps towards him and then stops.

“I’m sorry,” she apologises. His eyes go to her face again.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have gone off like that, it was wrong,” he mutters.

“I shouldn’t have accused you, you took her out to lunch because it was her birthday, it’s the kind of thing that you would do.” She takes another step towards him and slowly, tentatively she reaches out and takes his hand. She slowly smiles as his fingers curls around hers.

“It was a spur of the moment thing…she’s a nice girl Josie, she’s all but ignored there and I wanted her to feel…special,” he explains. Josie nods and takes the remaining steps into his arms. She sighs when she feels them curl around her.

“Of course you did and I didn’t help matters by jumping to conclusions. I do trust you Mitchell.” She lifts her head and looks up into his eyes. She stands on tiptoe and gently kisses him.

* * *

 

He wakes up suddenly, gasping. He stares wide eyed up at the ceiling. Pain cramps his stomach and it makes him tense. He turns his head and sees Josie motionless. They’re still tiptoeing around each other, being so careful and cautious and he hates it but he knows it’ll take a little bit of time. He rolls onto his side and watches her. Her heartbeat is slow and steady in sleep and he can hear the whoosh of her blood as it pumps through her veins and arteries. Another sharp spasm makes him grunt and he gets out of bed, being careful not to wake her.

He dresses again, sliding on the jeans and t-shirt of earlier. He goes into the living room but he doesn’t turn on a light. The air feels warm against his skin as he goes to the window.

Outside the street is silent but he watches anyway. He curls an arm across his stomach as it cramps again. He knows what he wants, what he needs. This is the start of withdrawal. He can feel the first tendrils of panic begin to wrap themselves around his nerve endings, tightening and pulling. He needs to feed and feed soon. He swallows. He’s been strong before, he’s had the right mind set to do this and he can apply himself if he really wants to. He sighs raggedly.

He doesn’t think as he quietly closes the front door behind him and pockets the key. He emerges into the darkness and he looks around. There isn’t a soul to be seen on the street, he knows how to be invisible and he doesn’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention. He pulls his jacket closer around himself and begins to walk.

* * *

 

He’s not far from the Moonlight and he slows his pace. All around him are the people most of humanity don’t give a second glance to; prostitutes, vagrants, drunks and people rolling out of the clubs. All of them wouldn’t be missed; all of them are vulnerable easy prey to the likes of him. A sharp spasm stops him in his tracks, makes him double over, causes an exclamation of pain to escape from him. He sucks in a lungful of oxygen and waits for it to pass.

“Are you okay darlin’?” The woman’s voice makes him start. Slowly he straightens and he turns to look at the owner of the voice. She emerges from a vacant shop doorway and he takes in the short tight skirt, the low cut top and the heavy make-up. He watches her walk towards him until she’s close enough for him to smell her heavy, cloying perfume.

“Yeah...yeah I’m fine,” he replies. He looks around. The girl gets close enough to put an arm across his shoulders, her heavily made up eyes soft with sympathy.

“Do you want to go somewhere more…private?” she suggests and he looks at her. Her face is coated with a heavy veil of make-up and while he can see her youth, her eyes look old before their time. He can relate. Before he can change his mind, he nods. Her hands tighten on him and she smiles.

“I know just the place,” she tells him and leads him back the way she came. He goes willingly.

* * *

 

She doesn’t fight back, the swiftness of his attack means that she doesn’t have time to retaliate. He has her pinned in a little corner of the alleyway that she led him to and she’s not strong enough to push him away. He feels her hands beat ineffectually against his chest but it doesn’t last and he hears her heart hiccup, falter and then stop. Once he’s feeding, nothing on earth can halt it until the victim is drained, dead, until he’s had his fill. He lets go of her and she slumps bonelessly to the ground. He looks at her for a moment, the vitality from her blood overwhelming his senses. He wipes at his chin and looks down at his t-shirt. He sighs and slowly shakes his head. He looks up at the sky. It’ll be dawn soon. He needs to get back to the flat before Josie wakes up. He steps over her and half stumbles away.

* * *

 

An hour later he’s back and he’s sliding back into bed. To be truthful he’s too buzzed to close his eyes, he’s still on a bit of a high. He’s had a quick wash, brushed his teeth and got rid of the incriminating t-shirt. His stomach doesn’t hurt any more. Josie rolls over and she nestles up against him, her arm sliding around his waist. He momentarily tenses before rolling over so that he’s facing her. He stares at her face. He reaches out and touches her hair.

He wakes her with insistent kisses. It momentarily startles and confuses her but as she opens her eyes, she sees his silhouette and her eyes widen with pleased surprise.

“Mitchell,” she whispers. He rolls her onto her back

“Shhh,” he whispers back. She feels how his hands slide along the length of her, his mouth claims hers in a hungry soul stealing kiss. Her hands flatten against his chest, her fingernails scoring into the skin. He lifts his head briefly and looks into her eyes. Outside the sky is lightening to a pearly grey, bathing the bedroom in its gentle glow. Josie rises and she pushes at him. He rolls onto his back and reaches for her, dragging her over him and she goes willingly, so willingly. She straddles him and peels off the nightgown.

He’s insatiable and at the back of her mind she’s wondering why, how? The intelligent part is shying away from what it could be, what it could _only_ be but the softer, loving more _romantic_ part is telling her that he’s missed her and this is how he wants to show her that he’s missed her. Each reason battles for control.

She can feel the softness of his hair against her stomach and he’s urging her onto her back, spreading her legs wide. She closes her eyes against the landslide of emotion that threatens to take her under as a slow throbbing sensation fills her. His hands, his fingers, his tongue all dip and stroke and taste and she feels her reaction, her only reaction rise, unfurl. Then he’s moving upwards and over her. His eyes are dark with lust, dark but not black. She presses her thighs to his hips and surges up to meet him and she feels him shudder.

“I love you,” he whispers hoarsely against her ear and she believes him.

* * *

 

The alarm clock heralds the start of another day and Josie rolls onto her stomach and slaps it off. Then her eyes pop open. She’s alone. She lifts her head and looks over her shoulder. He’s not there and panic momentarily frissons through her. He’s never ever awake before her if he doesn’t have to be. He’s not an early bird by tradition. She sits up and belatedly remembers to pull the sheet up. She’s tired and to be truthful, a little bit sore. Sex with Mitchell is always good but early this morning it was…different. She looks up as the bedroom door opens and she watches him come in. He’s carrying two cups.

“Morning,” he greets. He puts her cup on the bedside table and sits on the side of the bed. He places a gentle kiss on her mouth and smiles into her eyes as he draws back.

“You’re up early.” She reaches for her cup and takes a sip. It’s coffee, black, sugarless with just a dash of water from the tap. He shrugs.

“Can’t sleep,” he replies and takes a sip of his own drink but Josie notices how his eyes slip away from hers.

“Is everything okay Mitchell?” she asks and he looks at her again. Something flares in his eyes and she wonders at it.  He nods.

“Absolutely fine,” he replies. He gets to his feet.

“I’ll make you some breakfast, I could walk you to work if you like?” he suggests and he watches a slow smile blossom across her face. She just nods.

* * *

 

He can hear her pottering around in the bathroom. He smiles absently to himself. It’s all so domestic, so normal. He goes through the routine of making breakfast, brewing tea, making sure the toast isn’t burnt, it’s mundane and he clings to it. If he doesn’t, well he doesn’t want to think about those possibilities.

She slides her fingers around his as together they leave the flat. She looks at him and smiles.

“What time do you have to be at work for?”

He shrugs. “Later, there’s no rush, boss gave me a couple of days off if I want them.” He watches her eyes widen slightly.

“Really? What did you do to earn that?”

“Impressed him I think.”

“You must be working hard then.” She smiles at him again and he holds her gaze for a moment before glancing away again.

* * *

 

Her work building comes into view. He pauses with her and looks up at it. It looks impressive and important. He swallows. He then looks at her.

“Want me to walk you up?” he asks and her eyes sparkle with surprise.

“You’re in an awfully…accommodating mood today,” she murmurs. He shrugs again.

“I have time,” he replies and she fairly beams at him before tugging him inside.

* * *

 

He swallows at all of the people coming to and fro. He can hear their hearts throbbing away, pulses beating, blood whooshing. It’s distracting and he’s finding it hard to tune it all out. He tightens his grip on Josie’s hand and smiles quickly at her.

He walks her to her desk. All of this humanity overwhelms him. He needs to get a grip. He needs to get out of here. His eyes take in the different secretaries, all working diligently at their desks. One seems to be staring at him with open wide eyed interest. It makes him uneasy. Josie follows his look and she then smiles.

“That’s Sarah,” she reminds him. He looks at her, the girl Josie had planned to stay with. He doesn’t smile. He remembers her now, he remembers Josie introducing them once upon a time.

“Will I see you later?” Josie asks him and he blinks and tears his gaze away from Sarah’s face to look at Josie.

“I don’t know. Maybe, I’ll let you know okay?” She just nods. He lowers his head and presses a quick kiss on her lips before striding out.

* * *

 

He sees the dark green Jag that’s slowly trailing him. He looks at it over his shoulder but he doesn’t slow down or stop. He knows who it is and to be truthful he’s just not in the mood. His day stretches out in front of him, he has no intention of going to the club and he wants to be by himself. He sees it pull away ahead of him and then stop. He watches Charlie exit and come to stand in front of him.

“You’ve been a very naughty boy John Mitchell,” he chides him in a gentle tone. Mitchell frowns at him.

“What do you want?” he demands instead.

“Well I _was_ going to pay you a visit at home to see if you’d calmed down at all but then I found out what went on in the wee small hours, tut tut.”

Mitchell looks away and doesn’t respond. “I want you to leave me alone,” he mutters.

“Can’t do that I’m afraid, now we can either go quietly or we can cause a scene, either way, you’re coming with me.” Charlie’s tone hardens and he stares unblinking into Mitchell’s eyes. Mitchell glares at him. He looks distinctly non-threatening with his nerd glasses and cheap suit but Mitchell doesn’t underestimate him.

“Are you really going to make me do it?” He hears the click and he looks down and he sees the handcuffs that Charlie suspends from a couple of fingers. He looks away and shakes his head in resignation and follows him to his car.

* * *

 

Charlie starts up the engine and turns his head to look at him. Mitchell is curled down in his seat with his arms folded and his chin on his chest. He really doesn’t want to be here, he couldn’t make it any plainer unless he has a neon sign attached to him. Charlie sighs quietly and pulls into busy morning traffic.

“How are you Mitchell?” he asks. He glances at him to see him slowly turn his head and look at him. He doesn’t answer.

“You’ll have to forgive Alexander, once he gets an idea in his head he can be a bit like a runaway train, unstoppable you know?” He glances at him again. “He also doesn’t like to be told no. He doesn’t understand the bond that you have with your lady.” That gets his attention as he hoped it would.

“Where are we going?” Mitchell asks.

“To the club.”

“I’m not ready to go back there Charlie,” he admits.

“It’ll be okay Mitchell, Alexander understands the situation now, Josie is off limits to any further discussion, he wants to apologise,” he soothes and the look Mitchell sends him is dark and distinctly untrusting. Charlie doesn’t blame him. He may have embellished a bit on Alexander apologising, he’s never apologised for anything in his life but he needs to get Mitchell back in there. Maybe he can persuade Alexander that just this once, the word sorry isn’t such a vile curse word.

“It’s tough isn’t it?” They pull up behind the club. Mitchell looks out of the window and stares at nothing in particular. He looks back at Charlie.

“You’re feeding again, your… _slip_ …unleashed the monster inside of you and you’re finding it hard to chain him up again, so you’re sneaking out at night and hoping Josie doesn’t notice.

“She will though, she’s a smart girl, she’ll figure it out and then what will happen?”

“She loves me,” Mitchell replies and as he says those words, he knows that maybe that’s not enough, yes she loves him, he doesn’t doubt that but will she forgive him this? He shifts slightly in his seat.

“It’ll get worse, if you go all noble and back to not feeding then the cravings will be much more acute, stronger. You had a taste of that last night, if you pardon the pun.” Charlie smiles humourlessly at him. “You say that love her, what’s really going to stop you from attacking her Mitchell? You know how desperation works; when you’re that desperate you don’t care.”

“I will never hurt her, I’ll die first,” Mitchell hisses at him. He opens the door and gets out of the car. Charlie follows suit.

“So you’re going to spend your nights hunting prostitutes to keep your hunger at bay is that it? It’ll never work; even I couldn’t keep that under wraps.” Mitchell stops.

“I have it under control Charlie and I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Josie is a subject not up for discussion, not now, not ever.” He turns and stalks towards the club entrance.

 

 


	14. Chapter Fourteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josie makes a realisation as Mitchell continues to spiral.

**Fourteen:**

“Hey.”

Josie lifts her head from her typewriter and she smiles when she sees Melanie beside her desk. She looks past her.

“Hey! No Michael today?” she enquires and Melanie rolls her eyes.

“My mum is watching him for a couple of hours. As much as I love being a mum, it’s lovely to have a little bit of time off, it’s exhausting.”

“I can imagine,” Josie empathises and she looks up at her ex colleague. She looks tired but at the same time she looks content. She watches her dive into her handbag and remove a sheaf of white envelopes. Josie watches her flip through them and extract one. She holds it out to her and Josie takes it. She looks at the name on the envelope and notices both her and Mitchell’s name neatly printed on it.

“We’re having Michael christened next month with a big party afterwards, we’d love you both to come to the service.” Josie looks up at her again. It will be impossible to get Mitchell inside a church or even on holy ground for that matter. He’s explained it as having the worst possible migraine, to the point that it leaves him unable to think, to function coherently and as a result he just avoids. She smiles at Melanie.

“I’ll let you know, okay?” she hedges instead and she puts the unopened invitation into her bag. Melanie nods.

“You okay? You look a little tired,” she comments and Josie rolls her eyes

“Well I don’t have a baby to blame for that.”

“No, just a gorgeous boyfriend,” she teases and Josie laughs quietly, self-consciously. Melanie smiles at her.

“Let me know if you can make the christening, okay?” Josie nods and watches her walk away, delivering envelopes as she goes. She sighs quietly. She already knows that she won’t be there so she has a little bit of time available to think of a suitable, believable excuse. She returns her attention to her typewriter.

* * *

 

“Josie?” She lifts her head and sees James Hunter standing beside her desk. She straightens.

“Ummm…my usual secretary has had to go home suddenly, her child is apparently unwell and I was wondering whether you could…substitute…until she returns? I can get whatever you’re busy with passed on to someone else for the time being.” Josie’s eyes widen. She nods.

“Of course,” she replies quietly. James waits as she collects a few things together before following him.

Her temporary desk is outside of his office door. He stands and watches as she puts her personal belongings away.

“My office in five minutes?” he suggests and she just nods and he watches him disappear into his office. She lowers herself onto the chair with a shaky sigh.

* * *

 

Mitchell enters the outer office. He’s really not in the mood for Alexander but he has no choice. He pauses when he sees Rosemary at her desk. He walks towards her, a frown marring his face.

“What are you doing here?” he whispers. Her eyes slide up to his face. He puts his hands on her desk and he leans over.

“Rosemary, didn’t you understand what I said yesterday? About leaving this place?”

Her eyes go wide.

“And go where Mitchell? I have no money, I can’t just up and leave,” she hisses back at him “and anyway, weren’t you just having a bad day yesterday?”

His expression changes. “You need to know who you’re working for, you’re such an innocent, and you shouldn’t be here.” He straightens up and turns. Linda’s desk is empty.

“Where is she?” he asks and Rosemary shrugs.

“Flirting with the help Mitchell, you’re incorrigible,” Charlie’s voice interrupts from behind him and Mitchell stiffens. Slowly he turns.

“Whatever,” he mutters. He turns his head and looks at her and gives her a hard look before following Charlie into Alexander’s office.

Mitchell is tense as he enters Alexander’s office. He sees him lounging in his chair behind his desk. There’s a half smile on his face that puts him on his guard.

“Mitchell,” he comments. He indicates a seat but Mitchell remains standing. His spine is stiff. Alexander sighs.

“All right, have it your way.” He slowly stands up and he walks around his desk and stands in front of him.

“I realise I was a little too…hasty yesterday and for that I apologise.” He flicks a quick glance at Charlie before returning his attention to Mitchell. “How about we meet for drinks later? You, me, Victoria and Josie? a fresh start?” he suggests and he watches Mitchell’s eyes widen marginally.

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. What do you say?” Mitchell glances at Charlie but doesn’t respond immediately.

“I’m offering to bury the hatchet Mitchell, Charlie will tell you that opportunity doesn’t come along very often, so what do you say?” Mitchell frowns.

“I’d just rather get back to work,” he replies.

“Umm…Mitchell.” Charlie comes up to stand beside him and he touches his arm. Mitchell pulls away and gives him a warning look and Charlie lifts his hands up. Mitchell looks back at Alexander.

“I appreciate it, I really do but I don’t think it’s a very good idea. Josie doesn’t like Victoria very much and to be honest, she hasn’t done very much to endear herself to me, so I’d rather not. Is that all?” Alexander nods just the once.

“Then I have to go.” He doesn’t wait for his dismissal and turns and walks out.

He goes into the main ballroom. He needs something to occupy his mind and he goes to join Max behind the bar. He spends time re-stocking, keeping conversation to a minimum. He’s thankful that Max isn’t the talkative type.

* * *

 

“I’m sorry…Jesus…I’m sorry.” Josie blinks as he moves away from her. She turns her head and watches him lie on his stomach, burying his face in his pillow. She rolls onto her side and stretches an arm across to rest on his back. She feels the muscle tense.

“Mitchell…it’s okay,” she whispers. He turns his head and he looks at her. His hair is a mess of curls, in his eyes and across his face. His eyes seem to glitter almost fiercely.

“No it’s not. It doesn’t happen to me, not ever!” he hisses crossly. She moves closer to him and draws him into her embrace. He rests his head against her shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter, really,” she reassures him and he frowns and he slips his arm across her waist. She feels warm and he turns his head and he inhales.

He hasn’t fed since the prostitute in the alley and he can feel his stomach cramping. He can hear Charlie’s voice in his head, whispering to him of desperation but he will not weaken.

Making love with Josie has always been special, that connection, that feeling that she unleashes in him that has nothing to do with the beast inside of him. Tonight…Christ tonight, for the briefest moment it wasn’t her face that he saw. The hair was blonde, the eyes were blue and he got a good lungful of that perfume and it had been enough to ruin the mood completely. It scares him. He once confessed to her that going without blood meant remembering the faces of his victims which was why the giving up was so difficult to maintain. Seeing Suzie in Josie’s place, even briefly unnerves him. He doesn’t want to see her face; he doesn’t want to be reminded of what he did. He thought that ignoring it and pretending it didn’t happen would be the answer. He’s wrong, he so, so wrong.

He stirs restlessly against the guilt. He doesn’t want to feel the guilt. He doesn’t want to feel anything.

“Go to sleep Mitchell,” she whispers to him. She hears him sigh, a long sound.

“Okay. Night.” His voice sounds heavy, different somehow. She frowns. The arm across her waist moves, his hand slides up to the side of her neck to cup her jawline.

“Mitchell?” She turns her head. His eyes are closed. She rolls onto her side and looks at him more fully.

“Mitchell,” she whispers again.

“Please,” he whispers. His eyes seem to be rolling beneath their lids. Was he asleep already?  She lays her palm against his unshaven cheek. She leans closer to him and presses a gentle kiss on his lips before lying back down.

* * *

 

She doesn’t know what has woken her but all of a sudden she’s wide awake. She stares briefly up at the ceiling and at the same time she realises that she’s alone.

She slips out of bed and slides on her dressing gown. The flat is silent. She heads into the living room but it's empty, as is the kitchen and the bathroom. She frowns. She didn’t hear the phone ring and what would the club want with him at three in the morning?

* * *

 

Mitchell slides into the flat just before the first light of dawn. He gently closes the door and listens. He stays absolutely still, his eyes wide. He takes a step along the hall.

“Where have you been?” Her voice is loud in the stillness and he starts violently.

“Jesus! Josie!” he exclaims, clutching at his chest.  He turns his head and sees her standing in the entrance of the living room, a cup in her hand. Her expression isn’t welcoming, it’s downright suspicious.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” he demands gruffly.

“I asked you a question,” she replies tonelessly.

“So did I.”

She sighs and goes into the living room. Mitchell has no option but to follow. He wipes at his face and checks the front of his shirt first before he does.

She puts her cup onto the coffee table and then slowly turns.

“I woke up and found you gone. So, where have you been?” she demands.

“Josie…” She strides towards him and then suddenly stops in front of him. She frowns.

“Don’t you dare accuse me of being jealous or suspicious this time Mitchell, I woke up and you weren’t there. You weren’t in the flat and it’s four in the morning.”

“It was to do with work,” he answers, glancing away.

“You’re lying to me,” she tells him and his eyes snap back to her face in surprise.

“What? _No_!” he exclaims.

“Then where were you?” she demands impatiently. He frowns and stares at her.

“I couldn’t sleep, I fancied a walk,” he retorts and the look she sends him tells him that she doesn’t believe him for an instant. He swallows. She stares into his eyes and slowly they widen as comprehension, _understanding_ begins to dawn.

“Mitchell there’s only _one_ reason you’d be out on the streets at this time of night,” she whispers, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.

“Josie.” He reaches for her, panic flaring inside of him. She jumps back and he halts.

“How long?” she asks, her voice still low, tears welling in her eyes.

“Please…I…” he stutters. The expression in her eyes turns fierce.

“Answer me! How _long_?” Her voice rises. His eyes go wide and his throat begins to work. Silence stretches out between them.

“Not long,” he finally whispers. Her expression changes to one of utter devastation.

“Oh my God, Oh _Mitchell_!” she exclaims breathlessly and turns, covering her face with her hands. He follows her.

“Please…I can…let me… explain…” he stutters, real fear choking him. She stops suddenly and he halts and watches her spin around to look at him.

“When… _when_ did you slip?” she demands angrily. He frowns at her.

“Damn it, tell me Mitchell and don’t you _dare_ lie to me!” she snarls.

He exhales. “At…at… the weekend, a…after our fight…I didn’t mean for it to happen, I was feeling angry, defensive, because you accused me of something…” His words falter and he swallows.

“So it’s all my fault is it? That you’re _weak_?” she hisses. His eyes widen at her fury but he has to expect a reaction like this, he deserves it.

 “I’m…sorry, I’m so sorry,” he apologises.

“I should have realised, that place you work at, run by vampires, it was only a matter of time before you slipped, went back to your old ways.” Her voice drips with disgust.

“I’m not like them Josie, I can give it up, I’ve done it once before, I can do it again. I can do it for you.” He grabs her by her upper arms. She pushes him away and moves away from him.

“Please Josie,” he whispers. His expression is intense, worried as he watches her. He goes to her and stops when she shakes her head, tears spilling from over full eyes.

“I don’t know Mitchell…” She tries to push past him but he captures her arm and turns her round to look at him.

“If I have you by my side I can, I know I can.” His legs feel rubbery and her eyes widen as they seem to give from under him and he falls to his knees in front of her. Fear begins to blossom. It overwhelms and overtakes him.

“Please. I love you. Help me. I _need_ you,” he whispers wretchedly. He presses his head against her stomach, his arms slipping around her waist. For a moment she’s frozen, her mind a blank. She looks down at him. His shoulders are trembling and the sound of his sobs is muffled by her dressing gown. She lowers her hands onto his shoulders and then slips her arms around his neck and she holds him close.

* * *

 

He’s sitting on the coffee table, facing her. She leans forwards and using her thumbs, she wipes away his tears.

“I’m so sorry that I let you down so badly, I’ll do…anything to put it right.” His voice is rough, weak and full of self-disgust.

“I should’ve expected this to happen Mitchell.”

He frowns at her. “You didn’t make me do any of this, it’s all my fault. I’m weak.”

“But you’re a vampire, slips are to be expected.”

“It doesn’t make it right.”

“You’ve been struggling to hide it from me but now I know.” She reaches for his hand and he curls his fingers around hers.

“If you’re serious about wanting to stop then today can be the first day of a new start,” she tells him. He looks at her.

“It won’t be easy.”

“Nothing worth having comes along easily Mitchell.”

* * *

 

She leaves him sleeping. She’s under no illusions, it’s going to be tough but she loves him and she has to be strong for him. He’s pale and there’s a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin. He’ll tremble, he’ll shake and he’ll beg for her to help him, to let him go out and feed. She understands that she’s putting herself at risk, that he could very well attack her in his desperation to feed. He’d told her that desperation doesn’t discriminate.

She picks up the phone and dials a number.

“Hello. I’d like to speak to Alexander Marshall. My name? Josie Donnelly.”


	15. Chapter Fifteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josie sets off a devastating chain of events...

**Fifteen:**

She locks the front door and drops the key into her jacket pocket.  She pauses on the step and checks the content of her handbag. Inside are Mitchell’s wallet and keys. He’s locked in there for his own safety. With some luck he’ll just sleep. She takes a deep breath and leaves.

* * *

 

She pays the cab driver and gets out. She stands outside of the building and looks up at it. She clutches her bag closer to her and walks towards a non-descript wooden door. She knocks and she waits.

A young girl with long red hair answers and she smiles at her.

“Miss Donnelly?” Josie nods and she smiles fleetingly. “Mr Marshall is expecting you.” She opens the door wider and stands aside as Josie comes in.

Everything looks different in the daylight, less glamorous, a little seedy perhaps. Josie looks at her companion as she follows her up the staircase and something about her rings a bell.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Rosemary would you?” she asks her. The girl pauses and looks at her and she frowns in puzzlement.

“I am.” Josie regards her, takes in the milk pale skin and green eyes. There’s an innocence about her that’s at odds with this place. Then she remembers that she doesn’t know what Mitchell is, what any of them are. She can see why Mitchell would be drawn to her. She smiles gently.

“I’m Josie, I’m Mitchell’s girlfriend,” she introduces and holds out a hand. She watches how the other girl’s eyes widen with recognition.

“Oh! It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She takes her hand and they shake. Josie follows her the rest of the way up the stairs.

“How is Mitchell?” Rosemary asks as they reach the top, she glances at her. “He seemed a bit upset, a bit under the weather earlier,” she adds on.

“He’s still not feeling well; hopefully he’ll be back on his feet in no time,” Josie replies.

“I hope so.”

They reach the outer door of the main office.

Josie enters the large outer office. Rosemary indicates a seat opposite her desk.

“Mr Marshall will be with you shortly,” she tells her and watches her go and sit down.

* * *

 

A nervous few minutes pass. Finally the door to Alexander’s office opens with what Josie can only think of as a flourish and as she gets to her feet, she watches him emerge.

He’s wearing a navy blue suit, white shirt and dark coloured tie and she thinks he looks very leonine with his shaggy blond almost shoulder length curls. He advances towards her with a smile on his handsome face.

“Miss Donnelly,” he greets, holding out a hand. Josie briefly shakes it and she sees how his blue eyes assess her.

“Won’t you come this way?” he looks across to Linda

“Hold all my calls will you please Linda? I don’t want to be disturbed,” he requests and she just nods.

Josie follows him into his office and her pace falters when she sees that he’s not alone. There are two other men, one she recognises from the party they had attended, the other she draws a blank at.

“You remember Simeon,” Alexander reminds her with a sweep of a hand and Josie nods. The other man stands up. He’s of average height, wearing an untidy looking dark brown suit and tie and horn rimmed glasses. He regards Josie for a moment before walking towards her, his hand out.

“I’m Charles Robinson but you can call me Charlie,” he introduces. Josie doesn’t reply but she shakes his hand. His handshake is cold, pretty much like his eyes. He reminds her a little of Herrick and that makes her uneasy. She looks back at Alexander.

“I had hoped that it would just be you and me,” she begins. Alexander is back standing behind his desk and he’s regarding her with interest.

“Charlie and Simeon are my right hand men so to speak so don’t worry, whatever we discuss here won’t go outside these four walls. Won’t you have a seat?” Josie regards him and then she quickly shakes her head.

“No thank you. I don’t plan to stay for long,” she tells him.  She sees how he looks at Charlie before returning his attention to her.

“So what do we owe the pleasure of your visit Miss Donnelly?” he asks. Josie straightens and she grips the handle of her handbag a little bit tighter.

“I know.”

Alexander cocks an eyebrow.

“Oh? And what would you happen to know exactly?” he enquires in a cool tone.

“That Mitchell slipped. I know that he’s been…feeding again.” She turns her head slightly to look at Charlie and sees that he’s regarding her keenly.

“And how did you find out?” Charlie asks.

Josie inhales.

“It doesn’t matter how I found out but he’s admitted it to me.” Her eyes flit between them both.

“And what, you’re here to tell me that you’re okay with it is that it? How can you be, with what he is, what he’s done?” Alexander asks, disbelief colouring every word.

“I didn’t say I was okay with it but I understand why. I understand what he is, that what he does is a compulsion that he sometimes have trouble fighting against.” She narrows her eyes. “He shouldn’t have come here in the first place, he wanted to be left alone but you lured him in.”

“Careful,” Alexander warns in a soft voice.

“You lured him into your web with promises of money, you said you understood and respected that he didn’t feed but you were just biding your time, you put enough temptation in front of him and waited for him to fall and he did.”

She turns her attention to Charlie.

“The weekend just gone, I can’t begin to imagine what he did and it won’t have been pleasant…” Her words fade when Charlie begins to chuckle. He slowly walks towards her and then he stops and folds his arms.

“Do you have _any_ idea of who he is, who he was before you came along? My dear, John Mitchell was a vampire whispered about fearfully in dark corners for decades! You have no _idea_ of what he is.” Charlie smiles at her but there’s no warmth there.

“Then you have no idea of what he is now,” Josie retaliates with a boldness that is breath stealing.

“I understand like for like.”

“You say you understand him but you don’t _know_ him, not the way that I do. He’s not a monster, not any more. He wants to change, I want to help him. He’s back at the flat, he’s going through withdrawal and he won’t be back here.”

“Oh I don’t think that’s down to you,” Alexander informs her.

“When he’s strong enough, he’ll tell you himself. I want you to leave him alone; I want you both to leave him be. Please.” She softens her voice. She sees the anger brewing in Alexander’s eyes but she refuses to feel intimidated. She takes an experimental step backwards. “I’ve said all that I’m going to say,” she tells him.

“You must love him very much,” Charlie interrupts and she looks at him.

“I mean, here you are, fighting in his corner and you have no idea who we are do you? Apart from what we are.” He glances at Alexander for a moment before returning his attention to her. Charlie takes a half step towards her, that chilly little smile on his face again.

“You ask Mitchell,” he tells her. Her eyes widen at the look of menace on his face.

* * *

 

Mitchell wakes up suddenly. He inhales sharply. He’s cold; he’s so cold that he can feel it invading his bones. He pulls the blankets over his shoulders and waits to get warm. He holds onto the blanket and wills himself to stop shaking but he can’t and soon his whole body is trembling violently. He fights his way out of bed and he stands in the middle of the bedroom. His legs feel as strong as limp spaghetti and the room tilts and sways. He frowns. He’s gone without in the past but the effects haven’t hit him this hard this quickly before. Charlie was right; he told him that the symptoms would be more acute this time around. His stomach begins to churn ominously and he stumbles for the bathroom.

He’s a boneless heap on the bathroom floor, whatever was in his stomach is now in the toilet and he’s too weak to move.

* * *

 

He lifts his head when he hears the thumping on the front door. It feels like it’s coming from the inside of his skull.

“Mr Mitchell? Miss Donnelly? It’s Mrs Cartwright, rent’s due!” a voice calls and Mitchell sighs quietly and lowers his head again and presses his forehead against the cool floor.

“I know you’re in there Mr Mitchell!” she calls out and it’s with some trepidation that he manages to pull himself to his feet. Slowly he walks to the front door and goes to open it. It’s locked and he leans up against the door and closes his eyes. He flinches when she knocks on the door again. He can hear the pulse of her heartbeat and the whoosh of blood being pushed through arteries. He takes a deep breath and as he opens them, he knows his eyes are black.

“You know what Mrs Cartwright; I’m not feeling very…well at the moment. Can we sort it out later?”

“But it’s due today Mr Mitchell…” she begins and he feels the annoyance well up inside of him. He turns his head to the small table underneath the coat rack where he usually leaves his keys but it’s bare. His eyes scan the immediate area but his keys are nowhere to be seen. He swallows.

“I think I have…the flu Mrs Cartwright and it’s really…infectious. I promise you, either myself of Josie will be along to give you the money either later today or tomorrow.” He waits and he can almost see her frowning at him through the door. He hears her sigh of irritation.

“Okay Mr Mitchell, tomorrow then,” she retorts and he sighs in relief when he hears her walk away. His legs give way again and he falls to the floor. Every muscle in his body throbs. He wonders where Josie is.

* * *

 

Josie emerges from the office and Rosemary turns to look at her. She looks a little pale, a little bit uptight and she wonders why. The two women look at each other and Rosemary watches her walk towards her.

“Are you doing anything later?” she asks her in a low voice. Rosemary shakes her head.

“I think Mitchell would like to see you, would you come over? I can leave you our address.” Rosemary’s eyes widen slightly.

“Okay,” she agrees a little bewildered. She watches Josie pick up a notepad from her desk along with a pen and write something down onto it. She looks at her as she hands it to her.

“He could do with all the friends he can get right now and he likes you. Come over any time okay?” She watches her look down at the address and then nod. Josie offers her a small smile. She then looks over her shoulder to Linda who is watching from the other desk.

“See you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Rosemary agrees and she watches Josie leave.

* * *

 

She knocks on James’s door and waits for his prompt. He lifts his head when he sees her and his smile is genuine. It flummoxes her slightly.

“I have to take a few days off I’m afraid,” she begins and she watches him get to his feet and skirt around his desk and come to stand in front of her. His eyes are soft with concern.

“Oh? Problems?” His voice is gentle.

“My boyfriend’s not very well that’s all, he can’t even get out of bed so I have to play nursemaid for a few days,” she answers with a quick, fleeting smile. She looks away for a moment. “So it means that I can’t fill in as promised unfortunately.”

“Oh don’t worry about that, go take care of your boyfriend.” He waves a hand and smiles at the same time.

“Thank you for being so understanding,” she tells him in a halting voice, flushing slightly. She turns to leave.

“If there’s anything I can help with, you’ll let me know won’t you?” She glances at him over one shoulder and dimples a shy smile his way. She just nods as she leaves his office.

* * *

 

He makes his way into the living room, his eyes searching out for his keys but he doesn’t see them. He staggers into their bedroom and still doesn’t see them and it then occurs to him that his wallet isn’t where it usually is either. He feels like he’s losing his mind. He sits heavily on the side of the bed and he curls his arms around his waist as pain rips through him. He feels every muscle tense and he wants to claw the hurt out of him with his fingernails. He inhales noisily and looks up at the ceiling. He staggers to his feet as he feels fresh sickness surge.

Josie lets herself into the flat. It seems to be quiet and she hopes that he’s still sleeping. She unbuttons her jacket and hangs it up, as she turns, she sees him slumped in the doorway of their bedroom and his sudden appearance makes her start.

“I thought you were still asleep,” she breathes, pressing her hand to her chest. He looks awful, pale and sweaty with dark rings smudged beneath his eyes.

“Where have you been?” he demands as he attempts to straighten up. She hurries towards him and slips an arm around his waist.

“What are you doing out of bed?” she asks him and she helps back into their room.

“I woke up and you weren’t here. Where have you been and where the _fuck_ are my keys and wallet?” he snarls in response as he lowers himself onto the mattress. She looks at him.

“I had to go out for a little while and I took your keys and wallet for your own safety,” she answers calmly and the look he gives her is lethal.

“Why?”

“Why I had to go out or why I took your keys and wallet?” she asks. He sighs loudly and then curls an arm across his midriff. His face tenses with pain.

“I had stuff that I needed to do Mitchell, I had to go into work and see someone about getting a few days off and I took your keys and wallet for your own safety, in case you decided to do a runner.” His head snaps up and he glares at her.

“I don’t ...run,” he grinds out.

“But you’re really suffering now aren’t you my love? Even worse than last year?” He looks away. He is but he’ll never admit it to her. She reaches forwards and brushes a curl away from his face.

“You’ll get through this, I have faith in you,” she whispers and his answering expression is wretched.

“I can’t do this,” he whispers frantically.

“Yes you can, you have before.” She wants to remind him that he promised her.

“I need something Josie, just to take the edge off, just this once, I promise just this once.” His voice tightens as desperation claws at him. Her expression turns sympathetic.

“I can’t, I’m sorry but no,” she whispers. She leans forward to press a kiss on his forehead but he pulls back.

“But it hurts, it really hurts. Help me,” he moans and she frowns

“Mitchell…”

“Just go, leave me alone,” he snaps and she stands up and does as he requests.

* * *

 

She can hear him pacing and the rattling of the window pane has her getting to her feet and returning to the bedroom. She stands in the doorway and watches him pace, his arms folded tightly around his body. He stops and looks at her, his expression is hostile.

“What do you want?” he demands.

“I was going to make some tea and I was wondering…” Her words halt at his vehement head shake.

“Can’t, I’ll just puke it up anyway,” he mutters, a dark frown on his face. She takes a tentative step towards him.

“Is there anything that I can do to help?” she asks him gently. He frowns at her again.

“You know what will help,” he retorts and watches her eyes widen in shock.

“Mitchell, I can’t, please don’t,” she breathes. His expression crumples as he realises what it is that he’s just asked her. He rubs at his arms.

“My skin is crawling, literally… _crawling_ …it’s like I’m covered in spiders, millions of spiders and I want it to…stop.” He lifts his hands and he pulls at his hair.

“Why don’t I run you a bath?” she suggests. All of a sudden he’s right in front of her and she flinches when she sees that his eyes are shiny black.

“I could just use you,” he whispers at her and he looks down.

“Mitchell!” she exclaims, taking a stumbling step backwards. She reaches for the door and she slams it in his face and for a moment she stares at it, her knees trembling. She flinches when she hears something crash behind the door.

* * *

 

There’s a tap on the front door. Josie’s eyes widen when she sees who it is.

“Rosemary,” she breathes. She’s completely forgotten that she’s invited her over to visit.

“I’m sorry but tonight isn’t a good time, Mitchell’s not in a good place right now,” she apologises. Rosemary frowns at her in puzzlement.

“But you said….”

“I know but he’s really not well at all and it could be…infectious…”

“Or he could just be going through really bad withdrawal symptoms,” another voice interrupts. Josie flinches back when Charlie Robinson comes into view, accompanied by Alexander. They stand flanked behind Rosemary. Behind her, Josie hears the bedroom door open.

“Josie! Don’t invite them in, don’t let them in!” Mitchell yells, his voice rough and she turns her head to look at him. He’s leaning heavily against the door jamb with a look of utter fear on his face. She looks back to them.

“Can we come in? We can? Oh thank you _so_ much!” Alexander announces and steps over the threshold.


	16. Chapter Sixteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All hell begins to break loose...

**Sixteen:**

Josie watches open mouthed as the trio enter their flat. She turns her head to look back at Mitchell. He’s straightened up and he’s staring at Alexander, absolutely stunned by what he’s witnessing.

“How…that’s impossible…how did you do that?” he demands.

Alexander grins at him. “Magic!” he whispers with a little flourish of his hands. “Actually it’s all down to age and experience and you know it can come in _really_ handy sometimes.” He winks at him and Mitchell scowls.

“What do you want?” Mitchell demands. Alexander walks into the living room and makes a show of looking around.

“Nice little place you’ve got here though not as nice as the flat I offered you.” He trails a cynical glance Josie’s way. Mitchell stands in the doorway. He turns and looks at Rosemary who is staring at him with eyes familiarly wide.

“You need to leave Rosemary, you need to leave _now,_ ” he tells her.

“Oh come now Mitchell, don’t be a spoilsport,” Charlie chides and Mitchell glares at him.

“She’s innocent Charlie, she doesn’t know, she shouldn’t have to know.”

Charlie widens his eyes.

“Then it’s time that she was told the truth isn’t it?” he replies softly, casting a look at the young assistant.

“ _Why_  are you here?” Mitchell demands angrily and then doubles up at the pain that rips through his stomach.

Charlie regards him dispassionately. “What’s wrong Mitchell? Having a tough time with cold turkey? Must’ve been that hard-core heroin addict you drained last night, she was a fix away from a fatal overdose but I suppose you dealt with that,” he comments and Mitchell stares at him with wide eyes.

“I’m not surprised you’re sick, you’re going through a different kind of withdrawal all together.” He smiles suddenly. “You didn’t feel the effects when you took her but you certainly are now aren’t you? Desperation makes you stupid because otherwise you wouldn’t have gone near her.” He looks at Josie and his expression is sly.

“This is what you’re going to have to go through each and every time that he slips. Are you prepared to do that and not hate him, hate what he is because if you don’t now, I promise you, one day you will look at him and you will utterly detest him and his kind.” He sees how her eyes flicker.

She moves closer to Mitchell. “You need to leave, you both need to get out of here,” she tells them, her voice trembling..

“She came to see us this morning, did she tell you that?” Alexander announces and Mitchell blinks in surprise.

“What?”

“Oh yeah, you didn’t tell me that she’s brave as well as stupid.” The look he casts her way is derisive, mocking. Josie turns her head and she looks at Mitchell.

“Why?” he hisses at her.

“ _Look_ at you Mitchell, look what they did to you,” she retorts, her tone dripping in disgust. “You need to leave it behind, you need to leave _them._ ” She indicates Alexander.

“You can’t fight against what you are, it’s just…impossible, so why do it?” Alexander reminds him, coming up to stand just behind her. Mitchell blinks and he frowns. He pushes past Alexander and goes to the sofa.

“With us, you don’t have to pretend, you can be who you are, you can be feared and revered and one day you’ll thank me for the opportunity.”

Mitchell slowly lowers himself down. His entire body aches, his head pounds and he wants it all to just stop. Slowly he lifts his head and he squints up at Alexander.

“That’s something that you never got about me is it? The fact that because I chose to become a vampire, embraced this _existence_ , that I might actually want to be a part of humanity again. It’s just completely…foreign to you isn’t it?” He looks past Alexander to where Rosemary is standing, beside Charlie, watching the goings on with complete bewilderment. He sighs raggedly.

“You’re right. You should tell Rosemary the truth about us all. You should tear away that final veil of innocence from her eyes and tell her about the horrors of the real world.” He’s tired, sick and weary and he leans back and closes his eyes. Josie watches him and she sees his defeat. She looks at Rosemary and takes her hand. She leads her to the sofa, beside Mitchell.

“Sit down,” she tells her in a soft voice. Slowly Rosemary sits. Mitchell opens his eyes and he looks at her.

“You need to know who you’re working for, what I am,” he begins. He watches as she looks around at all of them. He swallows.

“My name, as you know, is John Mitchell. My date of birth…is July 29th, I was born in 1893.” He watches how she scans his face and he sees how she makes the connection, how she struggles to comprehend.

“But that’s impossible…if that’s the case then you should be…”

“Seventy six years old, I know,” he fills in for her. Her eyes widen.

“I saw action during the Great War, I was reported missing, presumed dead.” He pauses and he looks at Alexander and Charlie. There’s a funny little smile on Charlie’s face and he stares at him for a few seconds before he looks back at Rosemary. “When you look at me, you see a man in his mid- twenties but you’re asking yourself how that could possibly be, given I’ve just told you my date of birth, I’m old enough to be your granddad.”

“How?”

“Because I’m a vampire Rosemary,” he tells her and he watches her eyes widen and her spine stiffen in shock.

“What?” She gives a nervous little laugh, as if expecting him to laugh too and tell her that he was only pulling her leg but he doesn’t, his expression is very serious. Again she looks to Charlie and Alexander and then to Josie.

“He’s telling the truth,” she informs her quietly. She watches her eyes fill with scared tears.

“Charlie and Alexander are both vampires Rosemary, as is Simeon and Victoria and I’m almost certain Linda is too,” Mitchell explains. He glances down as she begins to shake.

“You’re lying, you’re just making it up, vampires are monsters, unearthly unholy _creatures_ …that’s not you, that _can’t_ be you,” she whispers, the tears spilling out of her eyes and onto pale cheeks. He hates doing this to her but he has to.

“That’s why I said that you had to leave, go back home and you still can.” He glances up at Charlie and Alex again.

“Uh…Mitchell…”Alexander begins.

“You won’t hurt her,” Mitchell snarls and he gets to his feet. Alexander makes a show of widening his eyes.

“Oh and you’re going to stop me are you?” He looks at Josie for a moment. “We would’ve been quite happy to let her go before you opened your big mouth and decided that she should know. She could talk Mitchell!” He moves forwards and Mitchell dives in front of Josie before he can get to her.

“Don’t even think about it,” he tells him. Alexander’s response is a short, derisory laugh and he grabs the front of Mitchell’s t-shirt but Mitchell grabs him by his throat and his eyes scorch black at the same time.

“You don’t get to lay a hand on her do you understand?” He slowly pushes him back with his hand still around his throat and there’s a half smile on Alexander’s face, as if he’s allowing Mitchell to push him backwards.

“You can’t stop me,” he murmurs. Mitchell slams him up against the wall with enough force to say otherwise.

“I may not have your experience or your strength but you do not hurt her, do you understand me?” He holds him in place. Alexander smiles more widely at him, cold and business like.

“Oh look at _you_. There he is, I knew that if I kept pressing enough buttons, I’d get the right one eventually and there you are. Got to admire your spunk Mitchell, imagine what you could do with that kind of enthusiasm working for me, doing what you were _created_ to do,” Alexander hisses at him.

“Not interested anymore.”

“Pity,” he replies and he grabs hold of Mitchell’s throat and his own eyes blacken. He tightens his grip, his head tilted to one side as he watches him gasp and choke.

“You’re not as strong as you think you are young man, that’s what this withdrawal is doing to you, you’re not super human, you’re not super anything.” He spins him so that he’s the one pinned up against the wall and he lifts him until just the tips of his toes are on the ground. Mitchell closes his eyes as his vision begins to darken. He scratches as Alexander’s hands but his grip is like a shackle around his throat.

“Maybe we’ll just have to recruit someone to take your place then hmmm? Who do you think?” He looks over his shoulder and sees Josie stand beside Rosemary, her arms protectively tight around her.

“Eeny…meeny…miney… _mo_ …” He lets go of Mitchell and walks towards them both. Mitchell collapses in a heap onto the floor and gasps air into viciously starved lungs.

Josie and Rosemary stare at Alexander with wide, scared eyes. Josie pushes Rosemary behind her and she straightens.

“Leave her alone,” she hisses at him and Alexander pauses in front of her. His blue eyes are icy cold. He smiles in bemusement.

“You’re nothing, I could kill you now and not give it another thought,” he tells her.

“But you’ll be constantly looking over your shoulder,” Mitchell interrupts, his voice hoarse and Alexander looks over his shoulder at him.

“Really?  Now why would I be scared of you?” he demands. Mitchell is on his feet and staring at him

“Because I’m not scared of you,” he answers. Alexander turns fully around. This time he does laugh. It mocks him. Mitchell lunges at him again. Charlie moves lightning quick in front of him and puts a hand on his chest. Mitchell glares at him as Charlie slowly shakes his head.

“You may as well give up Mitchell, you won’t ever beat me,” Alexander taunts. He turns back around to look at Josie.

“No,” she snarls at him, clinging to Rosemary and Rosemary screams as Alexander reaches around her and grabs a handful of her red hair.

“No, don’t you _dare_!” Josie continues and pushes against him, trying to make him let go. Of course it’s useless. Alexander pushes her away from him and she falls onto the sofa.

“Alexander!” Mitchell yells his eyes going wide as he drags Rosemary from the room. He pushes against Charlie who pushes him back.

“No Mitchell,” he warns him. Mitchell stares at him.

“Are you going to let him do that? He’s going to turn her into a _monster_ for Christ’s sakes!” he argues.

“There’s nothing you can do now Mitchell so just let it go.” His voice is strangely calm. Charlie pushes him backwards and holds him in place against the wall.

“Let it happen,” he tells him and Mitchell frowns. Charlie watches his eyes fill with tears.

“Can’t you stop him?” he begs and Charlie slowly shakes his head.

“You can’t stop Alexander when his mind is set Mitchell, I’m sorry.  You need to accept matters and just…move on.” He lets go of him and just regards him.

“Your weakness is that you care and you know, you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t because it’ll be your downfall. It would save you a lot of pain and heartache. Don’t come back to the club again, if you’re seen there, you will be killed. Take Josie and go somewhere new, go north perhaps, I hear Edinburgh is nice this time of year.” He takes a step backwards.

“Alexander will be back to deal with you so I think you leaving London would be a very good idea right now.” He turns his head and looks at Josie before returning his attention to him.

“Such a pity Mitchell, you had real potential.”

He shakes his head slightly as if in regret and walks out.

* * *

 

Mitchell’s legs give out from under him and he slides untidily to the floor. He curls his legs to his chest and rests his forehead against his knees.

“Mitchell…” He hears Josie’s voice and hears her approach him. He lifts his head and looks at her. She’s kneeling down in front of him and her teary eyes are huge and tragic looking.

“What will they do to her?” she asks him. He just looks at her.

“Kill her or recruit her, either way she’s dead,” he mutters.

“And you can’t do anything? You can’t make them see sense?” He frowns at her.

“You heard Charlie, you can’t change Alexander’s mind once it’s made, he’s an Old One, you don’t tell an Old One what to do!” he retorts. He pulls his fingers through his hair and he looks at her.

“This is all my fault,” he whispers and Josie frowns.

“Because you dared to say no?” He just nods.

“He wanted me, he wanted my reputation, I shouldn’t…” Josie puts her hand over his mouth.

“ _He’s_ the monster Mitchell, not you and he never understood that.”

“But I used to be, I _was_ and he’s right in that other vampires feared me and once upon a time I fed off that. You know what, you’re all right, I am weak.” He straightens up and Josie watches him stand up.

“Where are you going?” she demands. He watches her get to her feet.

“I’m going to sort this out.” He sways on his feet and she reaches out and grabs his arm.

“No you’re not, you heard what Charlie said, you’re not welcome back at the club, if they see you, they’ll kill you. Let it go.” She softens her voice, her expression becomes pleading and he frowns.

“So she’s supposed to be collateral damage?”

“They’ll _kill_ you,” she repeats. He stares at her.

“Jesus Josie, she was an innocent, she told me that she had no money, that she couldn’t leave because she couldn’t afford it.” He shakes his head, his expression crumpling. He inhales noisily and looks away. He walks away. For a moment she stays still and watches him. He heads towards their bedroom and this time she follows. She sees their bedroom door close.

She follows him and sees him sitting on the side of the bed. His head is bent and his shoulders are shaking. She strides towards him and lowers herself onto the bed beside him. He turns his head and looks at her and she sees the tears. She reaches for his hand and takes it and watches how he curls his fingers around hers.

* * *

 

Charlie finishes his cup of coffee and looks at Alexander. He’s in a euphoric state of mind considering he’s just lost possibly the most promising ally he’s seen in close to a century. Normally Alexander plays a clever, patient game but something about John Mitchell has unleashed something… _impatient_ in him and instead of waiting and luring, he’s gone completely overboard. He completely misjudged the younger vampire, hoping that flattery and ego boosting would work. With any other vampire it probably would have but the moment Charlie clapped eyes on the Irish vampire, he’d known that subtlety would be the key to winning him over to their side but would Alexander listen? It’s annoying because they’d been so damned close to achieving their goal.

“So Alexander, what next?” His words are like unexploded bombs.

“What next?” Alexander echoes. Charlie puts his cup down on the corner of Alexander’s desk. He gets to his feet.

“John Mitchell,” he tells him and watches him frown.

“Oh him, there’ll be others,” he dismisses with the wave of a hand.

“I quite liked him,” Charlie comments and Alexander regards him.

“Really?”

Charlie just nods.

“Yes really, he could’ve been someone truly special and with a bit of time we could’ve had him on side and completely loyal but you showed a level of impatience that was truly alarming.”

“I had to strike while the iron was hot Charlie you know that!” He watches him approach him.

“You struck too quickly and you succeeded in scaring him off. The key was to _slowly_ rid him of his humanity. Going after Rosemary and Josie was foolish, extremely foolish.”

Charlie pauses and regards him. “I’m worried about you. The old Alex would’ve been happy to bide his time and reel him in even if it took years; it was your patience that made you great. Now…” He slowly shakes his head. He takes something out of his jacket pocket and Alexander’s eyes widen and for the first time ever Charlie sees the first inkling of real fear shine in his blue eyes.

“Charlie? What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, backing away from him. Charlie slowly follows, his eyes bright with intent.

“What I should’ve done a long time ago,” he breathes.

“Mitchell was right about Rosemary, she _was_ an innocent, a breath of fresh human air in this place. You didn’t have to do what you did, you could’ve turned around and walked out, let her go but no, you had to prove a point.” He lets his eyes turn shiny black. “I’m tired of all of this shit Alex, of watching you ruin relationships with other vampires with your delusions of grandeur, your demands for ultimate respect. The older you’ve gotten, the more _outrageous_ you’ve become. Mitchell did the right thing regarding Arthur Morgan and yet you punished him. We want peace not all out war. I’ve had enough of your …tantrums.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Alexander demands. Charlie smiles, a grotesque parody of the emotion.

“I’m going to be you.”

Alexander screams Simeon’s name.

* * *

 

Simeon bursts through the door and stops when he sees Charlie standing behind Alexander’s extravagant desk. He turns and regards Simeon. He lifts the stake and examines the bloodied tip with indifference. He then looks at him. His eyes are ice cold and steadfast.

“There’s been a change in regime. You have a choice. You can swear loyalty to me or you can meet your boss’s demise, it’s your decision.” He sees how Simeon freezes, his eyes skipping around the office. Simeon is not that much older than Mitchell, he keeps in the background for the most part but he’s invaluable. Mitchell could’ve easily stepped in his shoes if the timing had been right. He sees him make his decision and his answering smile is tight and chilly.

“Get everyone together, there’s going to be a staff meeting,” he informs him and lowers himself into the chair behind the desk. He leans back and looks up at the ceiling and this time he grins.


	17. Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end....

**Seventeen:**

He sits on the sofa, smoking cigarette after cigarette. He doesn’t speak; he’s lost in deep thought. Josie lowers the mug on the coffee table in front of him. He doesn’t thank her; he doesn’t lift his head and smile at her like he usually does. He doesn’t even acknowledge her presence. He’s tormenting himself over visions of what Alexander and Charlie are doing to poor Rosemary. If he’d been stronger then he would’ve gone after them, she knows he would have. He’s still white pale with those tell- tale dark shadows beneath those tortured eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks him. He lifts his eyes and looks at her but he doesn’t reply. He leans back and blows a plume of cigarette smoke up towards the ceiling.

“Don’t shut me out Mitchell,” she beseeches and he looks at her again. He sits forward and stubs out his cigarette.

“I’m thinking about where my keys are because I want to get out of here, finding someone and draining them fucking dry. I mean, what is the _point_?” he hisses. He watches her eyes go wide. “Well you asked,” he mutters and he sits back again.

“You’re blaming me,” she tells him and he turns sharp eyes her way. “Because I went to see them at their office, because I didn’t tell you.”

“I would’ve stopped you, it was stupid Josie…brave but stupid.” He frowns darkly and she sees how his arm snakes protectively around his stomach.

“Are you still having pain?” He glances at her and his answering nod is infitesmal.

“The offer of a bath still stands,” she tells him but this time he shakes his head.

“What are you going to do now?” she asks him and his eyes slide back to her face.

“I don’t know.”

“You could go back to the hospital.”

“Charlie told me to get out of London and Alexander is nothing if not a man of his word. They can make it very difficult for me to stay here, difficult for you too.” He sees how her eyes widen slightly.

“We could move, we could start fresh somewhere else. We could go north like Charlie suggested…”

“My family are here Mitchell, in London,” she reminds him quietly. He frowns.

“Are we really having this conversation again Josie? You wouldn’t move to Bristol because of them and now you won’t think about moving out of London? Don’t you want to be with me?” His voice rises with indignation.

“I’ve lived in London my entire life Mitchell, everything that I know is here, everyone that I know is here…” she begins to explain.

“Part of who I am means that I can’t stay in the same place for too long before people begin to realise that I don’t age. Oh I’ll get the ‘you’re looking good for your age’ comments but for how long before they get really suspicious?” His expression is intense. “How long do you think we could stay here before our neighbours begin to notice Josie? We’d have to move eventually, why not to a new city where nobody knows us? Why not now?”

“So it’s all about what you want?” Josie retorts and he frowns at her.

“I moved to London in case you hadn’t noticed because you wouldn’t move to Bristol, I’m the one who’s a vampire, I’m…” He stops.

“Not the one who’s going to grow old and die,” Josie reminds him. She looks at him steadily.

“Here’s an idea, how about you convert me?” She watches his expression change from confusion to one of utter horror.

“No!” he retorts.

“But you’ve thought about it, I bet you have.”

He sighs raggedly and pulls shaking fingers through unkempt hair. “Of course I have but it doesn’t mean that I would, I couldn’t.”

“Not even if I got on my knees and begged?” He stares at her as if gauging her. He goes very still, very tense. He swallows. He can hear her heart beating in her chest, the hypnotic whoosh of her blood pouring through her veins. He inhales and closes his eyes.

“Not even,” he whispers.

“It would solve all of our problems,” she prompts and he shakes his head.

“Stop it!!” he hisses and jumps to his feet. She remains seated and watches him begin to pace.

“Don’t you want to? Don’t you think it would be a wonderful idea, then we can be together for eternity, we…” Her words stutter to a halt when he stops in front of her.

“ _Enough_!” he snarls quietly at her and she stares up at him with wide blue eyes. He stares at her for a few seconds and the silence is heavy.

“I didn’t mean it,” she whispers. He crouches down in front of her.

“I know but you’re right, I have wanted to, there have been times when it’s all that I’ve thought about, wondered what it would be like but it’s your love and your humanity that stops me, I watch you and you make me a better person, make me want to strive to be better but I failed, I let you down so badly.”

“Mitchell, I’ve already told you…” He shakes his head and her words halt again.

“The things I’ve done…I’ve created unspeakable tragedies, thrown terrible awful tantrums of epic proportions,” he tells her in a low, ashamed tone. She frowns and somehow she knows he’s not talking about his time before her.

“What are you talking about?” she whispers. He looks at her for what feels like the longest time.

“At the weekend…I…oh God Josie….” Her eyes go wide and she quickly puts her fingers over his mouth and shakes her head.

“No…I don’t think I want to know.”

 He stares at her. “Charlie _is_ right about one thing, I’ll keep doing this, I’ll keep slipping and one day you will look at me and you’ll hate me.”

“Mitchell I love you, that will never change,” she vows in a firmer voice and his answering smile is so sad.

“I love you too Josie, I have never loved another woman the way that I love you,” he confesses in a whisper. He looks down at her hands on her lap and he stares at the ring that she still wears. That weekend in Bristol feels like such a long time ago now. He stares at it for a long while and then he lifts his head and he looks at her.

“Remember when we stayed at The Berkeley?” His voice is still soft.

“Before or after you tried to chase me away?” she replies and there’s a soft teasing light in her eyes. His answering smile is faint and fleeting.

“Before,” he replies.

“Yeah,” she breathes on a soft sigh. He looks back at the ring.

“That weekend…that was my birthday…the day I met you off the train,” he reveals and he watches her face and sees her eyes widen.

“You never said,” she breathes and she reaches for his hands and she threads her fingers through his. He looks down at them.

“I don’t celebrate my birthday, never really have, even before I was changed and after, it just wasn’t important,” he admits.

“You should’ve said something…” He just shakes his head.

“Having you there was enough for me, like a birthday present and it was nice.” He lifts his head and he looks into her eyes.

“I wish that we could have that again, I really do,” he whispers. He sees the confusion.

“What are you talking about?” He feels the backs of his eyes begin to burn.

“We’re kidding ourselves don’t you think?” he murmurs to her.

“Kidding ourselves? What do you mean?”

He sighs shakily and tightens his grip on her hands very slightly. “Charlie did have a point earlier…” he begins.

“He doesn’t know you like I do Mitchell and he only said that to wind you up, get you onto their side.”

“I will _always_ be a slave to my…darker side Josie and I really don’t think that I’m strong enough to fight against it forever. What if I fall again and it’s even worse? What if I do something so _catastrophic_ ….” His words fail and he looks down and he slowly shakes his head. “I think it would be better if I just left…if I went back to Bristol,” he whispers and he chances another look at her. He swallows as her eyes widen with horror. She lets go of him and she just shakes her head.

“No…no…” she whispers. He watches as her features blur and once more he looks down and he wipes his eyes almost self -consciously.

“We’re not safe here in London anymore, I’ve put you into incredible danger. I can’t expect you to just up sticks and move on with me, it’s not fair to you, I’m not… _fair_ to you. You deserve so much, marriage, kids, a house, everything and I just can’t do that, I can’t _give_ you that.” He feels the tears spill warmly down his cheeks.  “I’ll go and see Alexander…or talk to Charlie…make sure you’re left alone.” Again Josie’s eyes go wide and she turns white. She grabs the front of his t-shirt and clings to him.

“You can’t, oh Mitchell you can’t, they’ll kill you,” she panics. He shakes his head.

“They won’t, if I tell them that I’m leaving London, if I promise not to come back, they’ll leave you alone and you’ll be safe.” If it means a stake through his heart to seal the deal then he’ll do it.

“Be realistic for a moment Josie, I’m a vampire, the cravings will never leave me and sometimes I don’t think even having you beside me will stop me from falling. I can’t offer you any semblance of a normal life, there wont be a happy ever after for us. With me gone, then you have that opportunity with someone who will love you, take care of you and give you everything that you should have, that you deserve.” His throat seizes up and he can’t speak any more. Josie has become rigid and he watches her.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispers and huge tears well up and roll down already pale cheeks. He frowns fiercely and he pulls her into his embrace and he holds her tight. She buries her face into his shoulder and she sobs. His eyes close and he feels his own tears fall.

* * *

 

She’s fallen into a restless exhausted sleep. He stands beside the bed and looks down at her. He wants to cling to her, to promise eternal love and fidelity to her but he’s already broken one of those vows; he can see Suzie’s face every time he closes his eyes. When he tries to sleep he sees unholy things invade his dreams, like scenes from a horror film. It slides in and out of his subconscious and to anyone else it’s a horrific nightmare but to him it's anything but that. He can’t tell her what he did, what he did to Suzie in that pub alleyway. He doesn’t want her to hate him. His eyes feel gritty and swollen and his chest hurts. He uses the heel of his hand to press against the spot. He doesn’t want to leave her, he wants to crawl into that bed beside her and draw her into his arms and just hold her and forget, but he can’t.

* * *

 

He’s nervous as he follows the WPC to the office at the back of the room. He stands silently as she taps on the door and announces to the occupant that he was there to see him. He straightens when he sees him come into the doorway. This time there’s no smile of welcome, no offer of tea or even a word spoken. They look at each other for a long moment.

“You’ve got brass ones young man. Come in.” He stands to one side and watches him come in. Mitchell watches him close the door. Charlie walks to his desk and stands behind it.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Charlie asks. Mitchell folds his arms tight against his body.

“I’m leaving,” he tells him in a low voice.

“And you came all this way just to tell me? I am honoured,” Charlie drawls and Mitchell frowns at him.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be. I need…to ask a favour.” His eyes dart away and Charlie regards him curiously.

“I’m listening,” he replies quietly and Mitchell raises his eyes to his.

“I’m going back to Bristol…in a few days but Josie doesn’t want to, her family are here, her job is here.”

“She should’ve thought about that before paying us a visit,” he chides.

“She’s innocent in all of this Charlie! She doesn’t deserve to suffer for what I’ve done,” he argues. He stops and looks away again

“You don’t look well at all,” Charlie comments and it’s the truth, his skin is a ghoulish yellow white, dark shadows are painted beneath both eyes. Mitchell shrugs restlessly.

“Why don’t you sit down? Do you want some tea?” Mitchell stares at him in surprise.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk so sit.” He indicates the chair opposite his desk and watches how Mitchell approaches it almost gingerly. He watches him slowly sit down.

“How is Rosemary?” Mitchell asks him and Charlie regards him.

“She’s not your concern anymore Mitchell but she’s okay, she’s safe,” he informs him and he sees the look of relief that flashes across his face to be quickly replaced by confusion.

“But…”

“There’s been a change of leadership, suffice to say that you or your lady don’t have to worry about Alexander showing up on your doorstep again.” He sees how his eyes widen and then comprehension dawn. Charlie sits back in his seat and he slowly smiles.

He sees the question in Mitchell’s eyes; _what happened?_

“It won’t be long until people here start to cotton on that I don’t exactly age like the rest of them, some of them are actually pretty decent detectives. Anyway, I’m after a career change. I’m tired of being the enforcer, the go to guy, so I’m going to go into senior management for a bit.” He regards Mitchell.

“I was really tempted to offer you your old job back but I think Alexander jumped the gun too quickly and scared you off good and proper so I think the best thing for you is to go back to Bristol and you have my word that Josie will be safe, she won’t be harmed by anyone.”

“Even with what she knows?”

“Even with,” Charlie assures him and he sees the relief sag his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he tells him and Charlie just shrugs.

“I wish we’d met earlier Mitchell, I really do because I like you and I think you could’ve become the stuff of pure legend. You had the potential to do well for yourself but humanity has got its pesky little hooks tight into your soul and no matter what happens, they’ll always be there.” He sighs and leans back in his seat.

“One word of advice though, keep an eye on Herrick.” He sees how Mitchell frowns at his name.

“I’m not going back to Herrick,” he mutters and Charlie sits forwards and he stares at him

“Yes you will, eventually you will because he’s your maker, your recruiter and like it or not, he has a hold over you. You don’t like it but he’s all you really know and when it gets too hard trying to be self- righteous, you’ll find him again or he’ll find you and slowly but surely he’ll poke holes in what’s left of _your_ humanity. You need to learn to handle him with extreme care,” Charlie warns him.

“I know how to handle him.”

“And I can imagine he knows exactly how to play you. Just remember what I said and be careful.” He watches Mitchell get to his feet.

“I’m sorry London didn’t work out for you,” he tells him and his response is just a nod. Charlie sighs regretfully as he walks out.

 

 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tying up loose ends and moving on....

**Eighteen:**

He knocks on her door and waits. He pushes his hands into the pockets of his trousers and listens, hearing her slow, halting footsteps. He hears the scraping of locks being unfastened and drawn back and her door squeaks open. He makes himself smile as he sees her face appear in the crack in the door.

“Mrs Cartwright? It’s John Mitchell from upstairs,” he reminds her. There’s an air of suspicion in her eyes as she regards him.

“You called by for the rent a couple of days ago but I was…unwell and couldn’t give it to you then?” The door widens. Of course the promise of money makes everyone a little bit more trusting, he almost laughs at that thought.

“Have you come to pay it?” she asks and Mitchell just nods.

“Actually I need to have a word with you about that.” He waits and the door opens wide.

“All right. Come in then.” He steps over the threshold and closes the door behind him as Mrs Cartwright walks slowly along the corridor to a room at the end. He follows slowly, his eyes taking in the fussy décor that ladies of a certain age seem to go for. There’s a thick floral carpet on the floor and knick knacks jostle for space everywhere. Everything is polished and buffed; there isn’t a thing out of place. It smells overwhelmingly of furniture polish and disinfectant. He follows her into the living room and sees more floral carpet and fussy wallpaper and lace doilies gracing the backs of the sofa and arm chairs.

“Mr Mitchell? The rent?” Mrs Cartwright reminds him, her voice slightly sharp. He turns his head and he looks at her. He ignores the clenching in his stomach and makes himself smile at her again. He’s hungry, he realises. He swallows.

“It’s just to let you know that I’ll be moving out at the end of the week. I want Josie to stay here, I’m not sure whether she intends to keep renting the flat or look for somewhere else straight away but if it’s okay with you, I’d like to pay what’s owed til the end of the year?” He watches her and almost sees the pound signs appear in her faded green eyes.

“My flats are very much sought after Mr Mitchell,” she informs him loftily and Mitchell barely refrains from rolling his eyes. She’s put the rent up twice in the year they’ve lived here and as far as he’s aware, Lisa is still living alone upstairs. He closes off his mind and instead stares at the landlady. Now is not the time to think about Suzie.

“Money isn’t a problem Mrs Cartwright; I’ve already said that I’ll pay til the end of the year. Is there a problem with that?” he enquires solicitously. The landlady seems to stare at him as if hypnotised and he thinks of how easy it would be to just go for it, he’d have her drained before she has any idea of what’s going on. It’s tempting, his nerves are starting to feel a little stretched and scratchy. He pulls his wallet out of his trouser pocket and he opens it, making sure that she sees the wedge of cash in there. Slowly he counts out a substantial amount of money before handing it to her. She looks at it and then up at him, her eyes shining with greed.

“That should more than cover matters don’t you think Mrs Cartwright?” he enquires and she nods. He makes himself smile again.

“Grand. I’ll see myself out then shall I?”

* * *

 

He lets himself into the flat and he closes the door and leans against it. He sighs shakily. He listens and realises that the flat is empty, silent. He can’t hear her. He straightens up and he goes into their bedroom. The bed is empty and neatly made. He turns his head. There are boxes on the floor beside the wardrobe and for a long moment he just stares at them. She’s barely spoken a word to him since that night. He doesn’t blame her. He walks to the wardrobe and he opens it and he sees his suits neatly hung up along with the shirts, some t-shirts and his jeans. Methodically he takes them out and places them on the bed. His suitcases are on top of the wardrobe and he takes them down. He’s done this before, so many times before. He empties his head of thought, only this time it hurts.

He fastens the last suitcase. He goes to the dressing table and pauses when he sees the ring. He picks it up and it rests on the palm of his hand small and slender. He sighs raggedly and closes his fingers around it. He drops it into his trouser pocket. He heads into the living room. There’s one more thing that he has to do.

Task done, he walks slowly back into the bedroom. He slowly walks towards her dressing table and he looks at the variety of bottles cluttering its surface. She has perfume, body lotion and make up everywhere. He smiles to himself and slowly opens the top drawer. He sees her underwear, all neatly folded. He reaches in and touches the material. He takes a breath and slips the envelope inside and covers it with a pair of filmy stockings and closes it again.

He carries his cases to his car and opens the boot. Slowly he loads them in before slamming the boot closed. He leans forward, bracing his hands against the back of his car. He hurts, everything hurts and he doesn’t think that it has anything to do with craving.

“Mitchell?” He stiffens when he hears her quiet, tentative voice. He closes his eyes for a moment before slowly turning around. She’s standing there and he can see the pain in her eyes, pain that he has helped to put there.

“Josie…” he begins.

“Were you planning on leaving without saying goodbye?” He stares at her and then eventually he nods.

“It’s just easier,” he mutters. She frowns.

“For who?” He looks away.

“Me,” he admits. She walks towards him and takes his hand.

“You don’t have to do this,” she tells him in a low voice and his eyes snap to her face.

“If you come with me then I won’t,” he tells her. He hears her sigh and she lets go of him.

“I have to leave, you know that I do. You’ll be okay, I saw Charlie and everything is sorted.”

“But you can’t stay.” It’s not a question but he shakes his head anyway.

“I’ll miss you,” she whispers and it takes everything that he has not to drag her into his arms, hold onto her and not let go. He curls both hands into tight fists.

“I’ll miss you too,” he admits.  All of a sudden she’s in his arms and for a brief blip of time he freezes. Her perfume surrounds him as his arms slowly wrap themselves around her waist and he lifts her. He buries his face into her hair and he screws his eyes shut against the pain. She feels warm, safe, _real_ and his grip tightens briefly before she’s letting go of him, he lowers her down and she’s stepping out of his embrace. She looks at him with tear streaked eyes. He takes his keys out of his jacket pocket and he holds them out to her. Her eyes widen slightly before she takes them. He takes a deep breath and turns. It hurts, oh God it hurts to leave her. He doesn’t want to but he knows that he doesn’t have a choice.

She watches until the Volvo is a dark spot in the distance before turning and walking slowly, numbly back to the flat.

He’s taken everything of himself out of the flat. She walks in and out of each room. There’s nothing of him here, it’s like he was never here at all.

* * *

 

He feels hollow, empty and utterly defeated as the outskirts of Bristol appear on the horizon. He hadn’t planned on returning here or if he did, it would’ve been under better circumstances.

Word travels fast in Bristol, he’s forgotten just how quickly but he doesn’t care. He feels numb and disconnected, like he’s seeing everything through someone else’s eyes. It doesn’t take him long to find a new place to live. It doesn’t take Herrick long to find him.

The interior of the pub is dark, the clientele faceless and anonymous and not looking to make friends or start up conversations. This suits Mitchell just fine; he’s not here to do either. Each night he sits alone at the bar and slowly, methodically drinks himself into oblivion. Afterwards he staggers back to his flat and sleeps it off, waking the next morning with a horrific hangover to do the same thing all over again. It’s a cycle that he’s in no hurry to break.

“Having fun are we?” Mitchell lifts his head from the bar and turns blood shot bleary eyes his way. Herrick resists the urge to take a step back as alcohol fumes and the aroma of bad personal hygiene waft over him.

“Fuck off,” he snaps at him and looks away.

“Oh charming, is this Dublin’s finest at work here or something else?” He stares at Mitchell’s back. He sighs and slides onto the vacant stool beside him.

“I wanted to say…welcome back.” He watches him turn his head and stare at him. He doesn’t say anything except to lift the glass in front of him and drain it of the whisky that it contains. He lowers it clumsily back down onto the bar and glares at the bar man who fills it again. Herrick catches his eye and subtly shakes his head. The bar man fades away to serve someone else

“Did you have a nice time in the Smoke then Mitchell?” he enquires. As he expects, Mitchell completely ignores him.

“Heard you made quite the impression while you were there.” Slowly Mitchell turns his head and he gazes at him. Normally this can be quite an unsettling experience but the blood shot eyes spoil the effect, as well as the overpowering stench of alcohol fumes.

“Leave. me.the.fuck.alone,” he annunciates. Herrick notices that his Dublin accent is always more pronounced when he’s pissed and he’s well and truly sauced right now.

“She broke your heart my friend but is this really the way to deal with it?” His eyes indicate the newly filled glass. Mitchell stares sombrely at it.

“It’s not like it can kill me,” he mutters darkly and Herrick has to give that to him, it’ll make him feel like shit but it won’t kill him.

“The hangovers are a bitch though,” he reminds him.

“And none of your fucking business.”

Herrick lifts both hands up and slowly gets off his stool. “You know where to find me when you see sense,” he tells him and slowly walks out of the bar. Mitchell watches him for a moment and then returns his attention to his drink.

* * *

 

He slowly comes to and for a moment he stares blankly up at the unfamiliar ceiling. He winces at the slow pound that begins to play its cruel and relentless beat inside of his skull. He turns his head and he sees her standing beside the window. Her skin is washed pale in the moonlight and he frowns at her. He can’t remember her name. He can’t remember how he got here. Slowly he sits up. She’s human; he can hear the flutter of her heartbeat. He looks around. He assumes that he’s in her flat. He takes in the sparse décor. He feels the chilly late autumn air kiss his skin. He looks at her again. He frowns as he watches her pick up his trousers and rifle through the pockets. He sees her take his cash and small change. He carefully climbs out of the lumpy bed and she doesn’t see him until he’s right in front of her. She jumps and looks up at him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he enquires politely and she continues to stare up at him with wide eyes.

“N…nothing,” she stutters and he looks down at what she still holds in her hands.

“It doesn’t look like nothing to me sweetheart,” he replies and she looks guiltily down. She hands his pants to him and he waits expectantly.

“And the rest of it,” he requests, holding his hand out. She glares at him as she dumps his money back into his hand. He gives her a chilly little smile.

“Thank you,” he replies and he turns his back as he checks the pockets. He pauses. He straightens.

“Where is it?” he asks in a level tone and then slowly he turns back around.

“Where’s what?” she replies and he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t play the innocent with me…you know exactly _what._ ” He takes a half step towards her. She’s a tiny, slight little thing with shoulder length mink brown hair and wide eyes. Now he remembers seeing her in the pub, he remembers thinking that she kind of looked like Josie if he squinted hard enough and used a lot of imagination and he’d had to use a _lot_ of that. Violet…. _that’s_ what her name is.

“There was an item of jewellery in there…if you want to live, then you’ll hand it over to me like a good little girl,” he requests. Her face contorts in a sneer.

“Go fuck yourself, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she hisses at him and he gives a long suffering sigh and grabs her by her upper arms. Her eyes widen in fright at how quickly he grabs her, at the expression in his eyes, of how tightly he’s holding her.

“I think you do. You _do_ know what I’m talking about and you have ten seconds to hand it over.” He tightens his grip on her and feels her tense. Her expression becomes defiant and he has to admire her…tenacity. He slowly shakes his head.

“I really wouldn’t,” he quietly warns her as he hears her inhale and open her mouth.

She doesn’t get the opportunity to scream as he attacks. He feels her struggle against him but it’s nothing, _she’s_ nothing. As his fangs pierce vulnerable skin, he’s vaguely aware of the scent of sweat, of faded cheap perfume. His scorched black eyes close in bliss as hot adrenaline spiced blood flows down his throat. He gorges, feeling the vitality of it infuse his entire being. It doesn’t take long and she’s limp in his arms. He finishes feeding and he looks down at her, at the sluggish flow of blood emptying her veins. He lays her on her bed and he looks at her hands. He frowns when he finds what he’s looking for and he pulls it off her finger. He makes a fist over it. He glances briefly at her and covers her with the thin sheets and cheap blankets. He washes, dresses and cleans up after himself and walks out.

* * *

 

All of the laughter and gossiping cease the moment he walks into the abandoned warehouse that they have adopted as their base of operations. He stiffens his spine and he fixes his attention on Herrick who is sat like a little king behind an impressively wide desk. It reminds him briefly of Alexander and how he had liked to use his desk as a status symbol. It leaves him cold. He ignores the silence, the speculative looks as he walks steadily towards him. He sees Herrick lean back slightly in his chair, a small self -satisfied smirk on his face as he watches him approach. Mitchell stops and the two men just stare at each other for what feels like an eternity.

“Okay. Get it out of your system,” Mitchell sighs and Herrick raises an eyebrow.

“Get what out of my system exactly?” he enquires coolly and Mitchell rolls his eyes.

“The ‘I told you so’s’?” he reminds him even though Herrick knows full well what he’s talking about. He watches Herrick get to his feet and come around the desk. He approaches Mitchell and pauses in front of him.

“Just don’t do it again,” he tells him. He embraces him. There is a mild ripple of applause from the other vampires present. Mitchell allows the hug but is quick to step out of it. His eyes scan over the faces of the others present and he sees Seth leaning up against the wall, watching the proceedings with a look of contempt on his face. He watches him straighten up and slowly walk towards him. Mitchell also straightens up; Seth looks like he’s spoiling for a fight. Unconsciously he clenches his fists.

“Wasn’t she worth the effort after all then?” he drawls. An uncomfortable hush falls.

“And who would that be Seth?” Mitchell enquires mildly even though he knows exactly who he’s alluding to. He feels the first prickle of annoyance. He remembers how Seth had grabbed him outside of that hotel and it still rankles with him now.

“The tart in London…was she worth it? I’d say probably not seeing you here.”

Mitchell exhales quietly. “What happened in London was unfortunate but if I ever hear you call her a tart again Seth, I will rip your fucking throat out do you hear me?” He keeps his voice low. He lowers his head as he hears Seth snicker.

“Yeah, okay,” he replies and Mitchell hears the blatant disrespect in his tone, everyone in the room can hear it and they wait with bated breath.

Mitchell’s reaction catches everyone by surprise. He’s in Seth’s face in an absolute instant, his eyes shiny black, fangs on full view. He clamps his hand around his throat and he digs his fingers in. He lifts Seth so that only the tips of his toes are on the ground.

“I’ll rip your fucking throat out with my bare hands and feed you to the dogs,” he hisses. Seth’s eyes bulge and he bats at Mitchell’s hand. Mitchell holds him in place for a moment longer and then throws him down and watches emotionlessly as he collapses in a boneless heap on the floor, gasping for breath. He looks at Herrick. He smiles coldly.

“What’s on the agenda for tonight then?” he asks. Herrick regards him almost proudly.

_There he is. There’s my boy_ he thinks to himself. _It took you long enough._

* * *

 

Those first few weeks are strange. She misses him, she misses his presence, his smile, the sound of his voice, his accent, she misses them all. She doesn’t remember all that much about those initial painful weeks apart from the constant heavy ache in her heart. She wanders from room to room like a lost spirit, as if looking for him. It takes her a while to be able to come home from work and not look for him in the living room or in the bedroom and see that smile of welcome. She doesn’t change the sheets of the bed for a long time because she can smell the scent of him on the pillow. The nights are the most brutal, the bed feels endlessly large and empty and she hugs his pillow to her stomach and pretends.

Slowly, as summer fades into a chilly, stormy autumn, the sharpness of that initial pain lessens and there are actual periods of time where he doesn’t occupy her every thought. She goes through the motions of going to and from work and she starts to smile a bit more, even laugh once in a while and it doesn’t make her feel guilty for doing so. She attends Michael’s christening and accepts the sympathy at her relationship break up with good grace. She waits for Sarah to say something disparaging about Mitchell in solidarity but it never happens.

She finds the envelope in her underwear drawer and her heart stops in her chest when she recognises Mitchell’s untidy scrawl on the front that simply announces her name. With shaking fingers she opens it. There’s money in there, she takes it out and her eyes widen in shock, there’s over a hundred pounds stashed in there and a brief note on lined paper.

_‘For dance school. M x’_

When she goes to pay the rent, Mrs Cartwright informs her that it has been paid in full to the end of the year. She shouldn’t be surprised that he would take care of her like this but it makes her cry all the same.

The nights come in earlier and earlier and soon Christmas is just around the corner. It’ll be tough not sharing Christmas with Mitchell but she treasures the one that they did have together. The firm organises a dinner dance and she attends as James Hunter’s date. He’s sweet, he’s funny and he makes her laugh. He’s not Mitchell but he makes her feel like part of the human race again.

 

 

 

 


	19. Chapter Nineteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in the present. Back in Bristol. The events that follow are recognisable to what happened towards the end of the first season of Being Human with a little bit altered here and there. I've tried to keep it as close to canon as possible wherever possible. Some lines of dialogue you'll no doubt recognise but has been gently and respectfully tinkered with here and there. 
> 
> Mitchell bumps into a familiar face.

**Nineteen:**

**_The Present Day…_ **

He grabs the can of Red Bull as well as the chocolate. He needs the extra kick of caffeine to get him through the rest of his shift. As he turns his head, something… _someone_ catches the corner of his eye.  As he turns, he pauses and his eyes widen.

_Oh God._

 

She looks up as the squat blue cup materialises in front of her.

“Black coffee, no sugar with just a splash of water from the tap.”

That voice. She hasn’t heard that voice in forty years. She looks up into his eyes, brown eyes that hold the slightest hint of a smile.

“Hello Josie,” he greets quietly and her eyes go wide.

“Oh my God, is it really you? You haven’t changed.” She watches him slide into the seat opposite her.

“Neither have you.”

She feels a blush warm her cheeks and she smiles softly. “Liar,” she gently chides.  She watches his smile blossom slightly. She can feel her heartbeat flutter as it always does when she sees him, then and now. He’s just the same.

“You work here?” she asks and he looks down at his scrubs and then he smiles at her.

“What gave me away?” he teases and she chuckles.

“What are you doing in Bristol?” he asks, still unable to believe that she’s sitting across from him.

“James…my husband…and I moved here when he retired,” She sees how his eyes drop to her hands and sees the wedding ring that she wears. They flick back up to her face and he smiles again.

“You got married….that’s…wonderful…really wonderful Josie.”

“He died five years ago,” she adds and she watches his eyes soften with sympathy.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. They stare at each other for a moment

“Look at you. I can’t believe it,” she sighs and he smiles a little self- consciously and glances away for a moment.

“So, what are you doing here? You visiting someone or…”

“Or…” She lets it trail off with a roll of her eyes.

“You’re a patient? Where?”

“Oncology, it’s…lung cancer,” she tells him.

“Can they do anything?” She shakes her head rapidly. He reaches across the table and covers her hand with his own.

“God Josie…” he breathes. She shrugs self-consciously at the same time slowly pulling her hand away.

“I’m here to talk about…treatment options but who’s kidding who here? Oh don’t Mitchell, I’m okay with it…I really am,” she whispers when she sees the look of devastation in his eyes.  He sighs raggedly. He opens his mouth to say something. He then sees how Josie looks up and the look of warning that comes into her eyes. He turns his head and he sees George approach him. There’s a slight frown on his face and he looks a little distracted, a little bit troubled.

“Mitchell…I need to…” he begins and then he sees that he has company and Josie almost laughs out loud at the double take that he seems to do. “Ummm…I guess it could wait,” he tacks on and looks curiously at his friend.

“It’s okay George, she knows about me….and what I am….” George’s eyes widen in surprise and also indignation. His mouth opens and closes a couple of times.

“I…have to go…” As he points to the cafeteria exit, he sends Josie another look of curiosity before hurrying away again. Mitchell turns his head and looks at Josie and he frowns at the look of reproach on her face.

“What?”

“That was mean,” she chides him and his frown deepens

“What?” He looks genuinely puzzled and Josie leans forward in her chair.

“Mitchell, you just outed him.”

“He’ll be okay,” he answers. He takes another sip of his drink. Josie sighs quietly. She glances at her watch and Mitchell watches her keenly.

“I could walk with you to Oncology if you like?” he offers.

“I’m sure there are plenty of other places you have to be.”

He shrugs.

“Maybe but I’d like to walk with you if that’s okay?” She regards him and then she smiles.

“I’d like that Mitchell, thanks,” she replies quietly.

She gets to her feet as Mitchell does and watches as he comes around the small table. She smiles at him as he gallantly holds out an arm and she slips her hand into the crook of his elbow.

* * *

 

Their progress is slow but companionable. He finds that he enjoys the closeness. He pretends not to notice her shortness of breath but he slows his pace for her.

“So, who is George?” she asks and he looks at her. She looks up at him and she smiles.

“Well he knows what you are so you must trust him…is he like you?” Mitchell shakes his head.

“No, he’s not like me but he’s...different. He’s my housemate, we share a house in Totterdown and he’s a porter here too,” he replies.

“He seems very…”

“Intense? Uptight? Tightly wound?” he suggests and smiles when he hears her chuckle.

“Well if you want to put it like that then yes. He seems nice.”

“He is. He’s the best,” he confirms. They pause outside of Oncology and she turns to look at him.

“I’m glad you have someone like him…” She takes both of his hands and she looks up into his eyes.

“It was wonderful…really wonderful to see you again Mitchell,” she tells him.

“I could come back and pick you up, take you where you need to be? Order you a taxi?” he suggests and her fingers tighten slightly around his.

“It’s okay,” she seems reluctant to break contact and then she sighs quietly.

“Would you like to come over to my house one evening? We can have a meal, talk…” She looks hopefully up at him and she sees the look of surprise.

“Or…not,” she adds on. They haven’t seen each other in forty years; maybe he doesn’t want to be reminded.

“When?” It’s her turn to look surprised.

“Is tonight too soon?” He shakes his head and then he frowns.

“I don’t want you to go to too much trouble just for me…” She sighs.

“Don’t worry, I can still cook a meal, I’ve become quite domesticated, you’ll be impressed,” she teases and he smiles again.

“I’d better give you my address.” He watches her delve into her oversized brightly embroidered shoulder bag and take out a fat notebook. Mitchell takes a pen out of the top pocket of his scrub top and hands it to her. He watches her open her notebook and scribble something down. She tears the page out and hands it to him.

“My mobile phone number is also there,” she adds. He looks at it. He takes her notebook from her and opens it to a blank page and does the same. He hands her the book back and pockets the pen again.

“Is eight o’clock okay for you?” she asks and he nods.

“But if you change your mind…don’t feel up to it…let me know, it’s okay,” he tells her.

“I can make us a meal Mitchell,” she tells him and he nods, a little embarrassed at being chastised by her.

“All right, if you’re sure.”

She nods. “I’m sure. See you at eight, okay?” He nods. She stands on tiptoe and she presses a kiss on his cheek.

“Go back to work Mitchell,” she tells him. She watches him walk away and she exhales and leans against the tiled wall and briefly closes her eyes.

It’s been forty years and looking at him, it could’ve been yesterday.

* * *

 

The rest of his shift passes and thoughts of Josie are constantly on his mind. He’s stunned to find out that she’s here in Bristol and has been for the last five years. They could’ve walked past each other in the street and never known. He thinks back to their time in London. He wonders whether they would still be together if he hadn’t got involved with the local vampire scene. It’s all moot, it happened, he did and it all ended. His mind goes to Herrick instead.

He changes out of his hospital scrubs into his regular street clothes. As he shrugs on his leather coat, George appears. For once they’re finishing at the same time and he smiles at him.

“Heading home?” George asks.

“In a bit…need to stop off somewhere first. What did you want to talk about earlier?” George looks at him and for a moment he’s faintly bewildered. “In the cafeteria?”  Mitchell continues and watches the light dawn in his friend’s eyes.

“Oh… that… that can wait. Who was the lady you were talking to earlier?” George watches Mitchell smile secretively to himself.

“Josie. We were together for just over a year once,” he murmurs. George blinks and then assimilates.

“Once, when was this once?” he asks and Mitchell blinks and then looks at him.

“A long time ago,” he straps his bag over his shoulder and looks at his housemate. “I’m going out tonight but I’ll have my phone switched on if you need me.”

“That’ll actually mean something if you do remember to switch it on,” George reminds him and Mitchell grins at him as he heads out of the door.

* * *

 

She has to admit that she’s nervous. It had been such a shock seeing him in the cafeteria earlier and even after all this time, he still has the power to scatter her thoughts in every direction. He leaves her feeling out of sorts and restless, nothing to do with her illness; he’s always had that effect on her.

She fusses with the dining table, acting like a young girl on her first date with a new boyfriend. There’s a white linen cloth on the table, candles in little crystal holders and wine breathing on the table. She feels nervous, she veers between thinking she’s overdone it, that she should know better at her age but she reminds herself that this is _Mitchell_. She never really forgot about him and when James retired and they moved here, she kept half an eye open for him, wondering whether she would see him again and what her reaction would be if she did. Of course she didn’t, most of his kind live on the fringes of society, in the shadows and he would’ve been no exception but part of her still looked and hoped.

She hears the growl of a car engine and she makes herself walk slowly to the large living room window and she feels the flare of excitement when she recognises the Volvo pulling into the wide driveway. He’s kept the same car after all of these years and it makes her smile.

Mitchell parks the car in an impressive looking driveway in front of a house twice the size of the pink house in Totterdown. He switches off the engine and stares at it through the windscreen. This is a big change from their little flat in London. He rests his hands on the steering wheel and grips it tightly. He battles against the misgivings fighting for dominance in the pit of his stomach. He should reverse out of here and leave, but he can’t, it’s Josie for God’s sake. He takes a deep breath and sighs it out. He sees the front door open and she’s standing on the doorstep. He lets go of the steering wheel and he smiles at her and gets out of the car, not before picking up the flowers that he’s bought up off the seat beside him.

He slowly walks towards her and stands on the doorstep and for a moment they just stare at each other. His expression is solemn as he hands the flowers to her. Slowly she smiles. She looks at them and lifts the blooms to her face and their spicy scent drifts over her. She lifts her eyes to his.

“I thought you had changed your mind,” she admits.

“I’m not late am I?” She shakes her head.

“Right on time. Come in,” she invites and he steps over the threshold.

* * *

 

He watches her as she closes the door behind him. His eyes take in the cavernous hallway, the flight of stairs leading to the first floor.

“Come through,” she requests, going through a doorway in front of him.

They go into a large dining room and he notices that the table is set with a table cloth and candles and wine. He glances quickly at her and she smiles.

“It’s not often I get visitors, I wanted to make an effort,” she tells him, her words coming out in a bit of a rush. His answering smile is gentle.

“It’s fine. It’s nice,” he replies quietly.

“Why don’t you pour some wine?  Dinner won’t be long.” He slowly nods and watches her disappear through another door which he assumes leads to the kitchen.

She turns her head when she hears the kitchen door squeak open and he’s walking towards her with two wine glasses in his hands. She checks on the meal. She knows exactly what’s going on with the meal, it doesn’t need her immediate attention but she needs something to do.

“Here.” He pushes one of the glasses into her hand and takes a sip of his own. She does likewise, looking into his eyes.

“Anything I can help with?” he asks but she shakes her head. He looks around the room. The kitchen units look expensive, immaculate and everything goes with everything else. He thinks of the mismatched little kitchen at the pink house.

“Is there just you here?” he asks and she nods.

“Yeah. Just me,” she confirms. She watches as he walks slowly around the kitchen, his fingers trailing over gleaming benches, touching little pictures and ornaments dotted here and there.

“No kids or grandchildren visiting for the weekend?” He looks at her and watches a look of sad regret cross her face. She shakes her head, making her long brunette hair ripple over one shoulder. She slowly walks towards him.

“James and I weren’t lucky enough for children. I got pregnant…but I lost it and it just never happened again,” she replies in a low voice and he feels her pain.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

“It’s alright, we were happy, we had a good life, James had brothers and sisters so there are nieces and nephews so there was always a baby to hold and spoil when we wanted.” She takes another sip of wine.

* * *

 

She finds him standing in front of the fireplace in the living room. He’s staring at the framed photographs neatly arranged on the mantelpiece with almost avid curiosity. She notices the absence of his reflection in the mirror above the mantelpiece and it reminds her of what he is, what he will always be. He turns his head and looks at her. She walks towards him.

“This is your husband?” He indicates the larger black and white wedding photograph and she looks at it. She smiles softly.

“My mother just about had a heart attack when I chose my dress, didn’t think it was…seemly,” she tells him with a reminiscent sigh. Mitchell peers at the picture, taking in the short white dress that she’s wearing and then glances back at her, an impudent smile twinkling in those eyes of his.

“Oh I don’t know…you always did have fantastic legs, would’ve been a shame not to show them off,” he replies and she smiles at him.

“And you were always a cheeky so and so,” she laughs and the effort makes her cough. Mitchell’s grin slides from his face when he sees her expression turn grey.

“Hey…” He puts his glass down and gently grasps her arm and he leads her to an armchair.

“I’m…okay….don’t fuss,” she breathes deeply, dragging oxygen into her lungs. Mitchell crouches down in front of her and watches her face carefully.

“Take your time,” he murmurs and she turns her head and looks into his eyes.

“Time is something that I don’t have Mitchell,” she wheezes.

“You know there are…options open to you?” He doesn’t elaborate and he continues to watches her.

“Become like you, you mean?” she replies and he slowly nods. She straightens up slightly without breaking eye contact.

“And I’d be cured…of….this…” Her hand comes up to rest in the centre of her chest.

“Instantly,” he confirms with a short, brief nod.

“But I’d be like this…I wouldn’t be young.” Her expression turns sad and his hand touches her face.

“But we’d be together, forever,” he whispers. Her eyes widen.

“But I won’t be...like I was.”

“You’re still my Josie, that will never change.” He sees her eyes fill with tears and then spill over. She wipes them self-consciously away.

“I asked you once…remember?”

“You weren’t serious then,” he answers.

“I don’t know. Wasn’t I?” He moves his hand away from her.

“No. You weren’t. You were pushing me… _punishing_ me and it wasn’t the right time,” he replies.

“And now that I’m dying…that I’m old…”

“If you want to talk about old then what about me? I’m over a hundred years old Josie.”

“On the inside maybe but to look at you, outwardly you’re frozen, you’re like a photograph.”

He stares at her.

“It doesn’t matter to me what you look like on the outside,” he tells her in a firm, insistent tone. He leans towards her and he presses a kiss on her forehead and then draws her into his arms. He closes his eyes as he feels her arms slip around his waist. They open again when he hears an alarm of sorts go off in the kitchen. He looks down at Josie.

“I think that’s dinner calling.” She looks up at him. She softly smiles, the moment passing.

“You’re right,” Mitchell straightens up and he gallantly helps Josie to her feet and he slowly follows her through to the kitchen. He watches how she takes charge of the pots and pans like a conductor in an orchestra.

“Your husband…I recognise him.” He had stared at the picture for a good few minutes, trying to remember. He’s seen him somewhere before but he can’t quite place him. She looks at him over her shoulder.

“You should…you saw him once at the office,” she tells him and sees him frown.

“Did I? When?”

“That day you walked me to work, after your …lost weekend. He was in the office but you weren’t introduced.”

“Josie, that was forty years ago.”

“And you said you don’t forget faces,” she teases and she sighs. He then grins.

“The partner…you married the partner?”

“James Hunter and he was the junior partner at the time,” she reminds him.

“Were you happy?”

“Why are you asking now?” She turns more fully around and puts her hands on her hips.

“I’d like to know…did he make you happy?” His eyes become intense. She realises that it’s important to him.

“Very. He was a good man Mitchell, he loved me very much,” she replies and a faint smile crosses his face.

“Good. I’m glad,” he replies.

* * *

 

 Dinner passes companionably.

“Oh no…please, I can’t eat another thing…I really can’t.” He pushes his plate away and shakes his head when he sees her come into the dining room carrying a tray holding chocolate cake, plates and forks. Josie makes a show of widening her eyes in surprise.

“Really? The John Mitchell I remember had hollow legs, it was always annoying how much you could eat without putting any extra weight on,” she teases. He looks up at her and he smiles.

“Wish I could blame it on the condition but I’ve always been like that, I remember my mam telling me there was no filling me and God knows she tried.” She sits down beside him and she looks into his eyes.

“You’ve never talked about your family before,” she comments quietly. He shrugs.

“They died a long time ago, and I was an only child. I thought I told you that?”

“You did, you told me that part and nothing else, what did they do for a living? Where did you live?”

“I’m from Dublin, my dad left my mam before I turned a year old, she was a seamstress, a skivvy and she died from the Spanish flu a couple of years after I was turned.”

“So you were alone from a pretty early age.”

He shrugs again and she sees the memories darken his eyes.

“I had friends, girls before…”

“And afterwards…”

He sighs loudly.

“Afterwards there was Herrick and Seth and their band of not so merry men. Do we have to talk about them Josie?” he asks, frowning. She watches him get to his feet and begin to gather dirty dinner dishes and carry them into the kitchen.

He’s standing at the sink when she appears. His hands are braced and his head is bent.

“Mitchell?” she asks, walking towards him. She puts her hand on his back and he looks at her over one shoulder.

“Will you talk to Herrick?” he asks her and her eyes widen.

“About what?”

He straightens and turns more fully around.

“What do you mean, about what? About being recruited…becoming like…me,” he answers. Josie sighs raggedly.

“Mitchell…” He can hear her doubts and he reaches for her.

“Please Josie…please at least consider it, hear what he has to say and if you don’t like what he has to say then you can walk away and I won’t mention it again.” His hands tighten on her upper arms momentarily before he lets go. It’s then Josie sees the glint of silver around his neck and she realises that he’s wearing a necklace. It catches the light and rests against his t-shirt. She reaches out and gently touches it and he looks down.

“Oh.” He reaches for it and begins to push it beneath his clothes. Her hand stills him and she takes it from him. She looks at it. It’s a pendant. No, it’s like a charm pendant for want of a better description; there are several charms attached, she sees a small key, two or three beads in shades of blue and grey, what looks like an equally small padlock and in the centre…she looks up at him. His expression is unreadable and she sees him swallow.

“You kept it,” she whispers. He just nods. She looks back at it. The ring from their weekend in Bristol, from their time in London. She remembers The Berkeley vividly, signing the register ‘Mrs McCartney’ and seeing the look of scepticism on the hotel manager’s face as he’d handed over the key.

“I never told you this but that weekend, I’d had my mum’s wedding ring with me, I wasn’t sure what you were planning on doing, whether you were even planning on getting a ring so I brought it along.” She stares at the tiny slender ring. “She didn’t even notice that it was gone.” She smiles up at him and she puts her hand over the pendant. He glances down.

“I didn’t have a photo of you to remember, so I kept it with me.” He doesn’t tell her that since his last determined effort to get off the blood, he’s worn it almost constantly. George has commented on it, Annie has wondered about it but neither of them knows the true story behind it. He smiles softly.

“I would have loved for there to have been a picture of the both of us you know? Like normal couples,” he admits.

“But we were never normal Mitchell,” she whispers back. He doesn’t reply because he knows that she’s right, they never were the personification of normality. She sighs raggedly and rests her forehead against his chest and his arms automatically go around her.

“Okay. I’ll talk to Herrick,” she tells him and his arms tighten around her and he presses a kiss on the top of her head.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

 


	20. Chapter Twenty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter. 
> 
> The events of season one begin to unfold. Again, snippets of dialogue has been gently tinkered with here and there. Thank you for reading 'The Pendant'. It was my first multi chaptered Mitchell based fic and still my favourite one to date.

**Twenty:**

The sun is bright in the sky but it’s still cold. Mitchell huddles in his jacket and walks with Josie to the bridge. They can both see Herrick on the opposite side and seeing him clad in the police officer’s uniform brings back some uncomfortable memories for Josie. She glances briefly at Mitchell and he sends her a brief smile of reassurance.

“It’ll be okay,” he murmurs and she looks back at Herrick, watching as he gets closer. They meet half way across the bridge.

“Herrick, this is Josie Hunter,” Mitchell introduces. Josie stiffens as his pale blue eyes seem to bore into her. Then he holds out a hand and their handshake is nothing more than a clasping of limp fingers. Herrick then looks at Mitchell and his smile is equally chilly.

“We’ll be okay from here,” he informs him and just like that, Mitchell is dismissed. He watches them walk away and he folds his arms tightly and huffs out a sigh. He wants to follow; he wants to hear what Herrick has to say. He wonders whether Josie will be drawn in by the promises that Herrick will make.

“I thought you were still in London,” Herrick comments as they slowly walk along the path by the river and Josie gives him a look of mild surprise.

“I never forget a face Mrs Hunter though you weren’t Hunter back then were you?” Josie shakes her head. She hitches the strap of her bag further along her shoulder.

“No. I wasn’t.”

“Because naughty you if you were a married lady, leading my young soldier along by the…well you know by what.”

“I didn’t lead Mitchell anywhere Mr Herrick,” she answers coolly. Herrick glances at her.

“No, you got that bit annoyingly correct Mrs Hunter, he doesn’t go anywhere he doesn’t want to that boy, irritatingly independent, always has been and always will be.” They pause and stare across the river.

“I am curious to know why you’re here. You were all for dragging Mitchell half way across the country, being his saviour and all of that. That was a rip-roaring success now wasn’t it?” His eyes gleam with ill- concealed malice.

“I’m sure Mitchell has filled you in on my…circumstances,” Josie replies, her tone still below zero.

“Yes. Terminal lung cancer, life expectancy delivered in a matter of weeks I think he said.” He turns to look at her. “You know, I should really be thanking you. He returned to Bristol a changed man, a darker, more intense man and for thirty years he murdered, he rampaged and he terrorised and it was all because of you. You had originally dragged him away from us and then you wounded him beyond measure. Now here you are with him by your side like an eager suitor all over again, but you want to embrace what he has lived with for close to a century. He wants me to talk to you about us, about what we have to offer you. It’s going to be interesting.”

Josie inhales slowly.

“You’re making assumptions about a period of time you know nothing about. How about I tell you that while he was with me, he got mixed up with the London vampire crowd, he worked for Alexander Marshall, you may or may not have heard of him.” She watches how Herrick tenses, how his expression becomes fixed and his eyes flick across the river to where Mitchell is standing, smoking a cigarette, looking for all the world to see that he’s bored stiff with time to kill but they both know that he’s watching every move that they’re making.

“He also worked in close proximity with Charlie Robinson. Mitchell could’ve become something only you could’ve imagined, could have only dreamed about but he didn’t, he walked away. He left _me_ Mr Herrick but he kept me safe into the bargain, so whatever you _think_ happened, it’s not what _did_ happen. I don’t think Mitchell ever told you about any of that, did he?” Josie retaliates.  Herrick regards her, he’s gone a little red in the face and he’s very tense. He glares at her for a moment. Then all of a sudden he smiles and it momentarily surprises her.

“Let’s walk and talk, shall we?” he suggests brightly.

* * *

 

It feels like an eternity. Mitchell leans against the metal railing and smokes another cigarette. He can see them talking, he only wishes he could hear what Herrick is saying to her. He sees Josie nod, her head tilted slightly to the side as she listens to him. He remembers how she used to do that when they were together. He smiles softly to himself and looks down into the murky river water again.  He will make this work, if Josie consents, he’ll do the change himself and he’ll fight Herrick himself for the right to do it. He’ll be with her every step of the way; he’ll guide her and help her. He’ll have her for eternity and he longs for it.

He can’t read her expression as she walks towards him. They walk side by side for a little bit until Mitchell captures her shoulders and holds her in place.

“Well?” he asks. She looks up into his eyes. Then she sighs.

“Oh Mitchell…” she sighs. She turns to face him more fully. His expression changes from hope to disappointment.

“No?” he whispers in disbelief and she just shakes her head.

“No, I’m sorry,” she replies softly. He sighs and drops his hands from her shoulders and starts to walk. She watches him for a few seconds, seeing his slumped shoulders. She hurries to catch up to him grabbing his arm and making him stop.

“I can’t do it Mitchell, I listened to him, I listened to what he had to offer and I just… _couldn’t_ ,” she confesses. He stares at her and she sees the hurt in his eyes.

“He could _save_ you Josie, I could save you. There’ll be no more sickness, no death, no getting older.”

The expression in her eyes turns sorrowful.

“Oh my love, being human means being mortal. It means dying and you can’t rob people of that,” she chides him and he frowns at her.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” he tells her in a tight voice. She stands on tiptoes and she hugs him.

“I know, I know. I’m going to talk to my Oncologist again, get him to run some more tests and see what’s available, I promise,” she tells him with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. His expression remains sombre. Then he nods. She links her arm through his and together they walk along the river.

She needs to talk to his friend George.

* * *

 

**_A Few Days Later…_ **

The beauty of cancer means that Josie doesn’t have to wait around to be referred for further hospital tests. She sits on the bed and stares out of the window. She sees the city stretching out in front of her and all she can think about is Mitchell. He had taken her home after her meeting with Herrick and since then her only contact has been sporadic phone calls. He’s sounded distracted and dejected and it succeeds in making her feel guilty. She had said that she would see Herrick but she didn’t promise anything else. She wonders whether George has managed to talk to him about what she discovered about Herrick, about his plans. Even now, it terrifies her.

She finds her room a little on the claustrophobic side and her book isn’t holding her attention. She slides off her bed and heads out into the corridor. She sees the various nurses, doctors and porters going about their jobs, like worker bees in a hive. She keeps her eyes open for Mitchell, maybe he’s working today? Her eyes widen when someone bumps into the back of her and a pair of hands catch her before she can lose her balance and steady her.

“Oh God… I am so sorry,” someone apologises and Josie’s eyes widen when she recognises the voice. She turns and she sees his eyes widen.

“Oh my God, Josie…what…what are you doing here?” He takes in her long red dressing gown and purple slippers.

“They’re running more tests, I promised Mitchell I would have them but they’re just a waste of time. Where is he? Is he working today?” She sees George’s eyes fill with tears and dread clutches at her with icy grabbing fingers.

“George…where’s Mitchell? Is he okay?” Her eyes widen with real fear. He reaches for her again. It’s then that she notices the shirt that he’s wearing; it’s crumpled and smeared with blood across the front and both of the sleeves. She raises horror-stricken eyes to his.

“Did Herrick…” Her throat closes up in horror and she can’t continue.

“We thought we’d saved Mitchell. After you and I spoke… we went to the funeral parlour and we did…we got him out of there. The other vampires weren’t happy, you see, Mitchell…Mitchell he… realised what Herrick was up to, what his _true_ plans were. Herrick was going…was going to _kill_ him but we got him out of there,” he breathes and she frowns, struggling to keep up with the speed that his words are tumbling out and over themselves.

“What happened?” Her voice trembles with worry.

“ Back at the house, Herrick…he tried to _stake_ Mitchell…he almost succeeded and the blood…oh my God the _blood_ …we got him here but he’s not getting better…he just lies there and he’s getting paler and… paler which is something I never thought I’d see. His body can’t make…he… I’m afraid he won’t make it.” She sees fresh worry wash over him.

“Take me to him George, please take me to him,” she begs.

She follows George into Mitchell’s room. Her breath catches in her throat when she sees him lying there. He’s so still and pale and there’s a gauze pad taped to his chest. There’s a blood bag attached to an IV stand, the tube snaking into the back of his right hand and sticky pads and wires are attached to his chest, monitoring a non-existent heartbeat.

“Oh.” She moves past George and goes to his bedside.  “Mitchell…” she whispers, reaching for his left hand and she watches his eyes drift open. They slide drowsily around the room and then rest on her face. He smiles slowly.

“Hey,” he whispers and she sees how he winces in pain.

“What happened? I thought you were vampire employee of the month?” A tiny smile cracks the corner of his mouth.

“I had a change of heart,” he replies.

Her eyes travel to the gauze pad that is taped to his chest.

“What did he do?” she whispers.

“He had a temper tantrum,” Mitchell whispers. He sees George come to the other side of his bed. He notices how tired his friend looks. He sees his blood-stained shirt and he realises that he hasn’t left him since it happened.

“You need to get some sleep,” he tells him and he sees the hesitant expression cross his face. Josie turns her head and sends him a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay with him,” she promises.

“If you’re sure…” he stammers and Josie nods.

“I’m sure,” she tells him and his shoulders seem to sag.

“Okay thanks, but I won’t be long,” he swears.

Josie turns her head and looks back at him. He looks so weak, so helpless lying there. Her fingers tighten around his and with her other hand she lays her palm against the side of his face. He stares at her.

“What’s going on Mitchell?” she asks.

“My body can’t make new blood,” he tells her. She stares at him. He’s so pale, much paler than usual, almost grey; his lips are colourless. Dark shadows are smudged beneath his eyes.

“I can help you,” she whispers and he turns his head and looks at her.

“No…no you can’t,” he replies steadfastly.

“If you don’t stop Herrick then who will?” she hisses at him.

“You saved me once already but you won’t let me save you,” he whispers back. Her expression turns sorrowful.

“Death isn’t always the unwelcome guest you think it is Mitchell. I’ve made my peace with all of this, with what’s happened in my life and what didn’t happen. Let me do this. I don’t have long left so call it a kind of organ donation.”

He frowns.

“No Josie.”

She stares at him and there is fire in her expression.

“So that’s it? Herrick wins? Please Mitchell; let me do this for you.” With the palm of her hand, she gently slides it down the side of his face, her thumb caressing the line of his cheekbone, his lower lip. She feels the scrape of several day old stubble beneath her palm. She then lowers her head and she presses a kiss on his lips and as she lifts her head, her hair tumbles forward and brushes against his face. His eyes close at the gentle touch and he can smell the scent of her. It clouds his senses and he remembers times gone by. Tears fill his eyes.

“I can’t. I won’t,” he admits roughly and she looks down at him. She sees the tears leak out of the corners of his eyes and slide onto the pillow.

“Yes you can,” she replies quietly, calmly. He opens his eyes and looks at her.

“Every time that I feed…it separates me more…from humanity, the gap gets wider…and I can’t get it back,” he whispers.

“You’re the only one who can beat Herrick Mitchell.”

He frowns. “Please don’t,” he whispers. He lets go of her hand and she watches how he shuffles along in the bed, creating a space for her even though he’s in obvious pain. She swallows and climbs onto the bed. He turns his head to look at her and he draws his arm around her shoulder.

“You know it’s the only way,” she murmurs. He gasps in a breath as he draws her head down to his shoulder. He stares up at the ceiling. He feels the softness of her hair against his cheek, he can smell her shampoo and he can feel the warmth of her skin. He tightens his arm across her shoulder and feels tears slip helplessly down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you…back in London,” he begins. He feels her tense very slightly.

“There’s nothing to apologise for Mitchell,” she replies.

“Yeah there is. I hurt you. I loved you so much and I messed it up by ruining everything. I didn’t mean to.” He turns his head as she lifts hers and looks into his eyes.

“I know you didn’t mean to but you know, what we had was special Mitchell.”

“You saved me. I wish…we had met under different circumstances.” His voice is low. Her answering smile is slow, significant. He watches her pull a swathe of thick brown hair to one side, exposing the elegant line of her neck.

“Let me save you,” she tells him. She sees the gleam in his eye, the one that he’s struggling to keep under control.

“It’s okay. I want you to,” His hand slowly goes around the back of her neck and he gently lowers her down to him.

“I won’t take it all,” he whispers against her skin.

“Do it Mitchell, please,” she whispers back. He feels pain and self -loathing swell inside of him.

“I’m sorry.”

 She looks into his eyes. “Don’t be sorry Mitchell. Once Herrick is gone, I want you to be happy, I want you to be free.”

“I love you, it was always you,” he tells her in a low, vehement tone and she smiles slowly, knowingly.

“I know and you for me. Now come on, be brave now.”

Mitchell let’s his eyes scorch black.

* * *

 

She barely has the strength to make it back to her room. Carefully Mitchell lowers her into her chair and he slowly, laboriously crouches down in front of her. Her eyes slowly slide open. They feel heavy, as if weighted down with lead.

“What…you doing here?” she slurs.

“Making sure you’re…safe,” Mitchell murmurs back. Her hand rests briefly on top of his. She feels cold to the touch and he doesn’t need to check her pulse to know that she’s very close to the end. He swallows and feels tears burn bright in his eyes.

“Go Mitchell.” Her words are whispery and weak and he nods. He leans forwards and presses a kiss on her forehead. Slowly he straightens and he leaves.

* * *

 

The nurse goes into his room to do checks and her eyes almost fall out of her head when she sees that her patient is nowhere to be found. As she emerges from his room, she sees him walking towards her, slowly, almost zombie-like along the corridor. His face is ghastly pale, his eyes dark and glassy. He can barely remain upright. She hurries towards him and he doesn’t even notice her as she grabs his arm and loops it across her shoulder to support him.

“Jesus Christ Mitchell, what are you doing out of bed?” she hisses. He slowly glances at her but doesn’t reply and allows her to help him back to his room. He sits slowly, heavily on the side of his bed and allows the shock waves to crash over him. He’s vaguely aware of the nurse flitting about as he begins to tremble. He shakes as tears flow.

George returns to his room a short while later.

Immediately he can tell that he’s different. For starters he doesn’t have that horrible close to permanent death pallor that he had been sporting earlier. He’s lying on his back and he’s staring up at the ceiling and he notices that he’s not connected to any machinery and the tube that has been feeding him blood has been ripped out.

“Did Josie stay for long?” he asks. Mitchell doesn’t respond and George is reminded of how Annie had been earlier. He’d been in just about full- fledged panic mode and Annie had lain on the sofa, disconnected and apathetic. Mitchell is doing the same thing now.

“Mitchell?” he tries again. “Mate? Are you okay?” He sees his friend’s eyes turn his way. They look slightly blood shot and he frowns.

“I need to get out of here.” Mitchell slowly, gingerly, sits up and George’s eyes widen with shock.

“Hey! You’re supposed to be taking things easy!” he exclaims when he sees Mitchell wince with pain.

“I can do that at home.”

George stares at him in bewilderment.

“I’ll find a doctor,” he tells him. Mitchell watches him hurry out as he slowly manoeuvres himself around to sit on the side of the bed. He waits.

* * *

 

George watches Mitchell walk slowly around his bedroom. The doctors had been glad to see the back of Mitchell, they didn’t like that they couldn’t figure out why he has no heartbeat, no pulse and why a previously worrying wound is now healing quicker than they’re comfortable with. They’d discharged him with a bag of heavy duty painkillers and instructions to rest.

It’s his silence that unnerves George. Oh he _communicates_ , he answers the questions that he wants to answer but that’s all he does. He guesses a stake in the chest can do that to a vampire but George thinks his silence has to do with something else entirely.

“Mitchell…” he begins and he watches how he pauses and then looks at him.

“What?”

“Will you tell me…about Josie?” he asks. He sees a strange look cross his face. A moment ticks by and George thinks he isn’t going to respond but finally Mitchell sighs, a quiet reflective sound.

“I knew her from a long time ago, you could say that she was my first love and we met up again recently.”

“At the cafeteria,” he remembers. Mitchell just nods. He slowly sits on the bottom of his bed and his hand comes up to rest on the pad still taped to his chest.  He frowns.

“You didn’t go to see her…before you left…and after being told that you weren’t recovering and the doctors not really knowing why, you’re up and about surprisingly quickly.” Mitchell looks at him. George sees the stillness, the pain. Then he understands.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Mitchell answers and he closes his eyes for a moment. When he looks at George again, his expression is clear.

“I will tell you about her one day George, just not right now, okay?” George nods.

“I’ll let you get some rest,” he tells him and Mitchell nods and watches him leave.

* * *

 

Herrick is dead. Even now Mitchell finds it hard to actually believe it but it’s the truth. He witnessed it for himself, down in the isolation ward at the hospital. He watched his best friend rip him to pieces.

An uneasy calm has fallen within the vampire community. Everyone is watchful, suspicious and waiting to see who will step into the breach. Mitchell isn’t eager to step into the vacuum, he doesn’t want to be reminded of what has happened for him to get to this point in his existence but he has a feeling it won’t be easy to walk away, they’ll be looking to him to step into his shoes and he really doesn’t want to.

He looks down at the newspaper page that George has left open for him. He sees her name and he sees the date and the time. He knows where it will be held and he wavers between needing to go and the possible repercussions if he does attend. He needs to say a suitable goodbye to her and whispers in a hospital room don’t count. He wants to do this properly. He takes a deep breath and unhooks his leather coat from the coat stand. He slowly shrugs it on. He turns his head when he hears the stairs creak. He sees George and Annie standing there with identical sympathetic expression on their faces.

“Do you want me to come with you? I really don’t mind,” George volunteers. Mitchell regards him steadily and then he shakes his head.

“I’ll be okay,” he promises them.

“How about we meet in town later and have a few drinks to remember her?” Mitchell’s answering smile is fragile.

“Let me call you, yeah?” George just nods.

* * *

 

He’s deliberately late as he walks into the cemetery. He ignores the faint pounding in his head. He keeps his head down and his eyes are shielded by black sunglasses even though the sun isn’t shining. It’s cold and wet, a persistent drizzle dousing him and everything else around him. He sees the small group of mourners disperse and he avoids eye contact and deliberately goes to a grave several feet away. He stares unseeingly at the marble stone and he waits. Ten minutes tick by and when he next looks, there’s no one there. He turns his head and there isn’t another soul to be seen. He takes a deep breath and walks slowly to the gravesite. His legs feel a little rubbery. He gets there and he pauses. The gravestone announces it to be the final resting place of James Hunter with the dates of his birth and death. There’s a space left underneath for her and he stares at it, imagining her name carved there. He looks down at the coffin. The pounding is worse in his head but he ignores it. He frowns as he feels emotion rise up within him and he sighs it out. He crouches down and he gently rests the white lilies that he’s brought along on the coffin surface. He stares at the rain spattered exterior and he imagines her as he remembers her best. He can see her in his mind’s eye. She’s laughing; she’s smiling, she’s happy and he smiles to himself. He gets to his feet. He prefers to remember her like that. He pushes his hands into his coat pockets. He then looks up at the iron grey sky. Maybe he will give George a buzz; they can head into town and sink a few pints. Maybe he’ll be ready to talk to him about her then.

He turns.

“Hello stranger.” His eyes go wide when he sees her standing there.

“Jesus Christ, Rosemary!” he breathes. He sees her smile.

“Hey Mitchell,” she greets.

“What…” He watches her approach him and she’s in his embrace. He feels her arms go around his shoulders and automatically his go around her waist.

“What are you doing here Rosemary?”

 She looks at him. “I read about Josie in the paper, I’m so sorry Mitchell…” she breathes. He lets go of her and she takes a step back.

“And you came all the way from London to her funeral?” It doesn’t make sense.

“We knew you were back in Bristol, we knew she moved here after her husband’s retirement. After his death we thought she might get in touch with you, so we guessed that you’d be here today.”

He tilts his head as he takes her in.

“We?”

“Charlie and me,” she replies and his eyes go wide.

 “Charlie recruited you?” Rosemary shakes her head. She links his arm.

“Why don’t we go and get a cup of coffee and I’ll fill you in?” she suggests.

They leave the cemetery and Mitchell sees the stately black Daimler parked at the kerb. He noticed it as he’d entered but hadn’t paid much attention to it. For a moment he stares at it and then gives Rosemary a suspicious look.

“Charlie isn’t in there is he?” he asks and she smiles at him. She shakes her head.

“He’s in London. He wanted to come with me but I managed to talk him out of it. Come on, get in.” She opens the door.

Mitchell gets inside and pauses when he sees the driver and his companion.

“Max? Jesus!” He can hardly believe his eyes and Max grins.

“Nice to see you again Mitchell.”

“Mitchell,” Simeon adds on and Mitchell just nods at him. Rosemary sits down beside Mitchell.

“I should’ve waited for Simeon, he’s supposed to be my bodyguard but when I saw you, I couldn’t wait so I told him to stay still which won’t amuse Charlie,” Rosemary tells him as the car pulls effortlessly away. Mitchell sits back in his seat. He has to wonder why Rosemary would need security…unless. He looks speculatively at her.

* * *

 

A little while later and they’re seated in a small coffee shop in town. Mitchell can barely take his eyes off her.

Her hair is shorter but her skin is still as porcelain pale as he remembers. Her glasses are long gone; she won’t need them now she’s a vampire. Max and Simeon are seated nearby, far enough away to afford them some privacy but close enough to help if necessary.

Mitchell takes a sip of his coffee and looks at her.

“Why are you here Rosemary? After what happened forty years ago, I thought for sure you’d be after my head.”

“What happened to me wasn’t your fault Mitchell.”

“Ummm…if you hadn’t shown up at the flat when you did…”

“They were biding their time, if it hadn’t been then, it would’ve been another time, at least you tried to warn me, you told me about what they were, who you were beforehand.”

“What happened?” He watches her expression darken.

“Alexander was the one who recruited me but instead of helping me as he was supposed to, he just left me there in the office. It was Charlie who saved me, who took care of me.” She smiles when she sees how Mitchell’s eyes widen in surprise. “Don’t look so surprised, he’s a sweet guy once you get to know him.” This time Mitchell can’t help himself, he chuckles and she frowns a little in puzzlement.

“I’m sorry sweetheart but I remember him from his enforcer days and he was most definitely not sweet, every vampire in London was shit scared of him, me included,” he replies and he watches her frown clear.

“He liked you, he was sorry to see you go, said you had such promise, he couldn’t understand why you gave it all up.”

“For my sanity Rosemary, I spent decades rampaging, slaughtering and when I met Josie I just wanted to stop…” He circles the rim of his cup with an index finger.

“So you did, for her.” He lifts his eyes to hers. He nods.

“For a while, I tried but I wasn’t strong enough to keep doing it and Josie wasn’t strong enough to help me.”

“So you cut your losses and left.”

 He sighs.

“It just about killed me but yeah and she had a great life, she got married, did well, was happy.”

“But he wasn’t you, I know she wondered about you.” She watches how he frowns.

“She did? You kept in touch with her?”

“On and off. She was kind to me Mitchell, she tried to protect me, I remember her arms being around me, so tightly, so strong and she tried to push Alexander away, she was like a tigress and I never forgot it. We would meet for coffee occasionally and yes your name would come up, how could it not? She never forgot about you. I tried to get Charlie to find out how you were but he always said to leave it alone, to let the past be that and he was right.”

“She never said…”

“Because I asked her not to if she ever saw you again, she helped me to remember my humanity. Oh Charlie helped too, having to leave my old life behind was almost more than I could bear but Josie helped me keep in touch with my more… _human_ nature and not lose sight of it. I had the best of both worlds in that respect.” Mitchell lifts his cup and takes a sip, marvelling at this different side of Josie that he was hearing about and being a belated party to.

“Are you happy?” he asks her and she frowns quizzically at him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You were such an innocent back then Rosemary and you had your eyes opened in the worst way imaginable. You’re like me now, eternal life, endless hunger, terminal blood lust, it never goes away.”

“And I have Charlie to take care of me and he does Mitchell, he really does.” She leans across and covers one of his hands with her own.

“Everything is fine. I’m happy, honestly. Charlie loves me and I love him.” She removes her hand. She sees the look of utter shock that crosses his face.

“Did you think him incapable of such emotion Mitchell? He still runs the London empire with a fist of iron but he does it quietly and underneath the radar. He’s heard about what has happened here, the ructions that it’s caused that a lyco ripped apart your boss, your sire. He wants you to be careful because there’ll be a lot of people wanting to step into his empty shoes and not all of them are suitable for the job.” She stares at him and he shakes his head.

“I don’t want the job Rosemary, I just want to be left alone,” he replies, frowning darkly.

“You might not get a choice Mitchell.” She leans forward and she snags hold of the pendant that she sees resting on his shirt. She holds it in the palm of her hand and she looks at it. She smiles to herself.

“And if you have to, you’ll find the strength from somewhere.”

 

**FIN.**

 


End file.
